


Those quiet things that no one ever knows

by all_the_kings_ham



Series: The boy who blocked his own shot [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Samifer - Freeform, just fluff, literaly, supplementary, there is nothing of value to be found here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 92,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_kings_ham/pseuds/all_the_kings_ham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or alternate title 'Nick rapidly losing his mind and heterosexuality over the course of three months'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little side story to go along with 'The Boy Who Blocked his Own Shot'.  
> If you're not reading that, I sort of urge you to, as there is no base explanation for any of the goings on in this story to be found anywhere other than in the big mama story over there.  
> These are just the messy little tidbits and daydreams from the other point of view- because I asked if you wanted to know what was going on with Nick and for some reason the response to that was positive.  
> go figure.

_We saw the western coast- and I nursed the shoreline like a wound._

_We kept it safe and slow._

_Those quiet things that no one ever knows._

 

Nick looked at his shoelaces, at the horrible mess that he had made of them. His hands usually worked better than this- but maybe Sam was right. Maybe he’d actually had a bit too much to drink tonight. But it wasn’t his fault. The concert had been loud and the room warm and the beer cold. And Sam had just been there, leaning against the bar, standing easily head and shoulders over almost everyone else in the room. Every time Nick had come back to talk to him he’d been forced to lean closer and closer, Sam talking with his mouth against Nick’s ear just so he could be heard.

Stupid Sam with his big warm hands that fit so comfortably around the back of Nick’s neck.

And it was no fault of his own that Nick drank. Just a bit. Only enough beer that he was sure that he would either be able to ignore the way that Sam felt leaning against him or enough that he would forget all the reasons why he wasn’t doing something about it.

Luckily he managed the first- or at least he thought so because he was alone in the hotel bathroom and he wasn’t entirely sure where Sam had gotten to. There was water running down his back and it was then that Nick noticed that he wasn’t actually in the shower but sitting on the edge of the tub. This was not one of his better nights.  

“Sam?” His voice sounded weird and strained to his ears and he hoped that the man hadn’t wandered too far.

“Yes?”

Oh good. He must have just been in the other room.

“I can’t get my shoes untied.” He begged softly, hoping that Sam might take pity on him, just this once.

“How is that ‘not as drunk as you look’ thing working out for you now?”

Nick tugged at one of the knots, folding completely over and just sort of getting stuck like that for a bit.  “ ‘m not that drunk.” He mumbled into his knees. He was just tired. That’s all.  “If you don’t help me I will just shower with them and my pants on- because I can’t get them off over the shoes- and when they’re still wet tomorrow I will make you go to the store and buy me new shoes and dry pants.” It was an idle threat, but apparently enough because he heard shuffling and then Sam was coming over and sitting at his feet.

God he was beautiful. Men weren’t supposed to be that good looking, and Nick had suspicions that it had something to do with all that long, soft hair. It looked soft at least. It certainly smelled nice.

Sam looked up with those odd colored eyes of his, his mouth curving in such a smug little smile as he started to battle the mess that Nick had made. “What would you do if I wasn’t here to save you from yourself?”

Well, he never would have made it back to the hotel for one, but he also wouldn’t have felt a need to drink quite as much as he had. He closed his eyes and started listing all the things that would have gone wrong if Sam wasn’t here to take care of him, a long confession of what a mess he would be right now and in the morning.

Sam only smiled. He was good at it.

Much better than Nick was certainly. He’d seen himself smiling in pictures, it wasn’t anything that he was proud of- but Sam, he had to practice to look that good. The way his eyes shone and his dimples made themselves known.

“I mean it.” He didn’t know what he would do if Sam wasn’t here with those dimples. Somehow he found that he had got a hand in to Sam’s hair, wishing that his fingers weren’t so numb so he could actually tell if it was as soft as he thought that it would be. “Same for what I said earlier. You’re too good for me.”

“Nick, whatever stupid thing you’re about to say, you won’t remember it tomorrow and I doubt that I’ll want to. Do us both a favor.”

Maybe he wouldn’t remember any of this later. But why would that matter? He was here and it was now and later was later. And Nick really was grateful for Sam. He’d always had the worst taste in women. Lilith was living proof of that. The woman was the devil incarnate and even after the eight years since he had last seen her he was still suffering from the ill effects. And she hadn’t been the only woman that Nick had hand picked for his personal misery. There were others. God, there were others.

But this was Sam. And Sam wouldn’t ever steal money from him, or instigate a screaming match on the front porch, or compulsively lie about plans, stalk him, try to start a fight with Anna because she had hugged Nick ‘a little too long’. Sam wouldn’t leave scars after a fight. Sam was good.

“You’re not a psycho bitch. I never thanked you for that.”

“You’re welcome I guess?” Sam laughed, apparently pleased by the complement.

“ Mean it. For the longest time I’ve been worried that I’ll turn around and suddenly realize that you’re this insufferable asshole like every other person I’ve ever dated. But look at you- you’re like a boy scout.” People didn’t have any right to be as sweet at Sam, certainly not to such a miserable man like Nick. He realized that he was still talking, his mouth running and he was saying something stupid about Sam, about those dimples and his laugh and how he looked like a lumberjack- but in a good way. “Why couldn’t you have been a girl?”

God, but if Sam was a girl... he would probably still have legs for days and an impressive right hook. And to be fair, Nick would have appreciated that fine ass but also would have kept on moving because beautiful or not, he’d never gone for nice girls with sweet smiles. He’d never thought that they deserved to be stuck with someone like him.

“Nick- take your shower. Make it a cold one.”

“Yell at me if I’m not out in five minutes. If I don’t come out assume that I died and you have my advanced permission to attempt mouth to mouth- just no tongue, ok?” He teased, not being entirely honest with either of them. “We’re not at that point in our relationship yet.” He sort of wished that they were. And there in lied the problem with drinking as much as he had tonight. Soft lips belonging to someone he liked were just as welcoming despite the gender they were attached to.

“I’m not sure I would want to do better than you, Nick.”

At least that is what it sounded like Sam said, but that couldn’t be right. He had to have heard wrong.

Sam was climbing to his feet and Nick smiled up at him, because even if the kid was just saying nice things to him, feeling sorry for him, the words were still beautiful.

“Five minutes. Don’t drown.” Sam instructed as he left.

Nick didn’t know how long he sat on the edge of the tub but at some point Sam called out ‘it’s been five minutes’ and Nick still hadn’t gotten undressed or into the shower like a normal person. He grumbled at tugged off the rest of his clothes before crawling into the bottom of the shower and turning the water to cold, hoping that a quick, fast shower would be just as good as a real shower.

Sam came and thumped on the door. “Did you die?”

“I think I just got a little lost.”

“Did you manage to find yourself?”

Nick closed his eyes and felt the cold water prickling along his back and down his front like icicles. He could practically feel the alcohol fleeing his system in fear. He was roughly a hundred times more awake and every inch of that was furious at him for doing this.

“ ‘m fine.” He called out in the direction of the door.

“You sure?”

“No.” He turned off the water and put his head against the side of the tub.

“You… you need any help?”

“I need a towel and maybe a sweater?”

There was some quiet shuffling and a towel and some clothes were set on the edge of the tub.

“Thanks.” He told the tiles under his cheek.

And even though no one had asked him to, Sam touched Nick’s shoulders, very lightly at first and then a gentle shake.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep in here.”

Nick looked over his shoulder and was startled to see Sam sitting there on the edge of the tub, a worried look on his young face.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Careful as he could, Sam pulled a towel around Nick’s shoulders. “You were sleeping. I brought you your clothes almost ten minutes ago, you haven’t budged.”

“ ‘m sorry.”

“Come on.”

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“I know.” Sam rubbed his shoulders and the towel was scratchy. “Come on anyways.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the end of chapter 8 I think?

 

Nick was almost positive that he wasn’t allowed to miss something that was never his to begin with.  But he had always been keen on civil disobedience whenever possible.

He let the car idle in the driveway, quite rumble he could feel up through his feet. The flickering streetlight was the only beacon in the blue black of the night, no porch light left on for them, the moon had set and the sun was still a few hours off. In the hesitant yellow glow of the gages on the dash he could make out some of the soft lines of Sam’s sleep still face.

It’s not like Nick could just _not_ wake the man. They would eventually run out of gas, or the sun would rise, or Sam would simply wake on his own- and everything would be ruined. At this point all Nick was doing was postponing the inevitable.

But the longer they sat here the longer he could wait to say goodbye.

Good lord.

At what point had he become so…

So stupid?

So irrational?

It had been nearly a month since Nick had felt like himself and it was still too soon to decide if this was a bad thing or not. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy. It was just that all this joking around and scheming and early morning wrestling matches gave him a weirdly hollowed out feeling. He was vulnerable and it was alien to him. Maybe because he knew it couldn’t last. It wasn’t built to. This was a friendship in the same way that a house of cards is a house. They were built to fall apart and no one expected anything less. It was only a matter of when.

Two more months.

How lucky Nick was to have an actual expiration date.

He put his hands over his face and remembered how to breath.

So stupid.

So irrational.

Though if he was going to run away from home and ignore all responsibility for a handful of days, he couldn’t think of any better company than who he had next to him.

“Sam.” And he could have spoken much louder, but then it might have woken the man. It was far more productive and enjoyable to just sit and look at the way the heavy shadows fell over his face hiding his deep eyes and the wry slant of his lips. Those damn lips.

Nick was going to get himself in trouble that he couldn’t talk himself out of one of these days- and Sam Winchester’s lips would certainly be the cause.

His face went back into his hands and he bit the heel of his palm, that soft spot below his pinkie. He’d almost completely fucked up back at the beach. Sam leaning over him in the dark, breathing a little too fast, watching Nick’s face like it meant something- though most of that had to be in his mind and miracle of miracles, he had managed to salvage the whole thing, kissing Sam’s jaw in place of those waiting lips.

Oh, but he was going to have a hell of a time keeping this up for two more months.

It was hardly his fault.

Back in Frisco, in the parking garage after planning out the sex that they weren’t actually having this weekend- which had amounted to a fair number of vague but inappropriate suggestions on Nick’s part and a lot of stammering, angry blushing and one after another strong veto from Sam. In the end it was decided that, as it would be both their first times, and apparently Nick was too old and tired, that everything should be kept fairly innocent and uninteresting.

So they finished their crepes and went to the stationary store because Nick needed to get some stickers for his nieces as part of their Christmas presents and then the two of them had had a childish race to the elevator.

Nick had won, by all rights, but Sam had slapped his hand away from the button before he could press it. Thus claiming the ultimate prize for himself, leaving Nick to stand off to the side, sullenly rubbing the sting from the back of his hand. And Sam had gently teased him the whole way back to the car where Nick popped the trunk and set the little pink and white polka dot bag beside his violin case. Sam had tapped the case and once more teased Nick about smuggling drugs out of the bay area under the guise of ‘repairing his violin’.

It was well after closing time, the garage practically empty, and Nick had always been a bit of a show off. Michael always chided him that his pride would eventually be his downfall. Unfortunately it seemed that Michael had been right. Because Nick had taken out his violin, hastily tuned it as best as he could by ear, and he had played for Sam.

It was just a quick little tune, and honestly more than he should have played considering that he hadn’t actually picked played anything in almost two month. His fingers felt slow and a little stiff, but they knew where to go. It was only a few bars, but when he opened his eyes and saw the slightly stunned expression Sam wore, he knew that he had played well enough for an audience.

Now, Nick playing just a few seconds worth of a song wasn’t damning on its own. It was the fact that Sam had got this odd little smile and said “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Thin Lizzy played on a violin before.”

That was the part that Nick blamed entirely on the younger man. Sam could have called it a Metallica song (the cover was certainly far more popular and far more appropriate for someone from Sam’s generation)- but no. He said Thin Lizzy.

There are very few things that bind people together as strongly or as instantly as a familiar affinity for obscure pop culture. Nick was fairly certain that every friendship he had had between fifth and twelfth grade had been based on nothing more complicated than a shared taste in music or television.

It didn’t matter that Sam had been pleasantly impressed by Nick actual ability to play the instrument.  It mattered that he knew the name of the band. It mattered that he followed it up by asking if Nick knew any Bowie.

Nick was smitten and the word didn’t do justice to encompassing the horrible, corrosive feeling that had been eating away at him since yesterday.

He looked up from his hands, dragging them forcibly down his face, trying to wake up. To open his eyes again and be free of this alarming dream that had overtaken him.

“Sam.” He said, though it didn’t seem any louder this time. “Hey. Darlin’. Wakey wakey.”

Sam stirred, blinking slowly. Yawning loudly without even the barest attempt to cover it. “We’re home?”

“I don’t know. I fell asleep a little after you did.”

That earned a little smile. “Real comforting.” He stretched, fingers almost touching the windshield. “You wanna come in?”

“It’s late.”

“I know.”

“I should-“

“Stay the night.” Sam finished for him. Not really offering so much as demanding. They shared an uncertain look and color, visible even in the almost true darkness, could be seen crawling up Sam’s throat.  “I mean… Dean would love to see your car in the morning. And you’ve already been driving most of tonight.”

Nick tugged at his lower lip, looking at the little clock on his dash. Almost one in the morning. Not at all late for his nocturnal sleep schedule. But he didn’t need to point that out. He needed to take that offer because he might not get all that many. Not like this. Not from Sam. “How many blankets are you offering me?”

“Two, but they’re real heavy ones.”

He almost said something. Almost promised to behave and keep his teeth and legs to himself tonight. But he stopped himself. He bit his tongue and took a breath and tried his best to clear his head.

“I really should get home. I think you’ll be alright on your own for one night.” When he felt brave enough to look back at Sam he realized how much he didn’t like that sort of expression directed at him, even in the half light where he could just barely make out the confused, almost hurt line of Sam’s mouth. “But if you really miss me you can always give me a call. I’ll tell you a bedtime story.”

“I’ll manage on my own somehow, I’m sure.” Sam waved it off, all confidant and unimpressed in the way that he could summon up on an instant’s notice.

“Goodnight.” He caught the shoulder of Sam’s jacket and tugged gently until the younger man got the idea and leaned over. He kissed Sam’s cheek and hoped that the younger man didn’t notice how he lingered or looked at his mouth as he sat back.

“ ‘night, Nick.” And Sam grabbed his stuff from the back and gave a parting smile before jogging up to the dark porch and letting himself in.

Nick sat in the dark, in his car and wondered at what point he had completely lost his mind. If it had been a month ago in the restaurant, or maybe during Thanksgiving when Sam had said all the right things, or sometime this weekend.

There was a goal in mind here.

And that goal was oddly not to find out what Sam tasted like. It was to get a little freedom from Gabriel.

Freedom. Not flavor.

He just had to remind himself of that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere in chapter 9, and Nick isn't all that good at justifying his actions.

 

Georgia was the kind of woman that radiated trouble. The problem was that Nick liked trouble. It explained his short but glorious police record, his even shorter marriage to the female version of Satan, his drinking problem, his obvious suicidal deal with Sam, and the brunet currently sitting on his knee.

They didn’t have much to say to each other. They never did. She tossed back her shot of whisky, wrinkling her little freckled nose, and pressed a kiss into Nick’s neck. She was soft in the right places and not quite warm enough, but this was honestly the most action that he’d managed to get since October- which incidentally was the last time that Georgia had come by his shop and asked for a ride home.

He wished that it was in his power to tell her no. But she had looked up at him, smiled with those dimples, and he was leaving work early and taking her out for a drink. His head was telling him no. Big blaring ‘NO’s with neon lights and a marching band and his body was having none of it. It was like having a bite of cake in your mouth (the best cake you’ve had all year) and being told to spit it out because there’s pie waiting at home for you that you’re not allowed to eat, but you can look at it- and how dare he eat someone else’s dessert.

“One more?” She tapped her shot glass on the bar.

Nick nodded to the bartender, pushing his own glass towards hers.

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, Nick?” She asked, straightening the collar of his jacket. “You look better than last time I came through.”

“I’ve… I’ve actually started dating someone. I think it’s good for me.” He took his refilled shot and nodded to her before tossing it back.

“Oh yeah?” It spoke to what a strange relationship that they had because she honestly sounded happy for him. “She better to you than the last one was?”

“She’s a he.”

To which Georgia grinned. White teeth and red, red lipstick. “You wanna give him a call, see if he wants to join us?”

Nick refused- ABSOLUTLY REFUSED to entertain that idea. He’d made a promise to himself to not consider Sam as anything other than a fully dressed, completely unsexual creature. A male creature specifically. And it shouldn’t be that difficult to remember that Sam was a boy and that no part of Nick’s body was interested in those sorts of bodies. Not enough variety once the clothes came off. Nick needed that variety.

He kissed Georgia instead of thinking about Sam and she laughed at him because they weren’t friends and she knew what a mess Nick was without prejudice or judgment.

With a great purpose, he did his best to refamiliarize himself of the contours of her mouth, to find that little dip at the base of her spine. And it was a good distraction right up until she pulled away to order yet another drink. Of the few things that Nick had learned about her through their few and far between meetings, the only one that was polite to make note of in mixed company was that she could drink him under the table when the mood struck her.

She glanced up at him through thick lashes. “Nick, does your boyfriend happen to be an angry looking man with short dark hair and Ken doll cheek bones?”

“No?” Nick laughed, but then he saw who she was talking about.

There on the far side of the bar was Dean- because of course there was Dean- and Castiel?

It would be fair to point out that Nick had never considered himself lucky.  

If he had been then he would have picked somewhere else to stop in and get a drink- and not the same bar that his kid brother had decided to take his non-boyfriend to.

Maybe it wasn’t luck though. Maybe it was just stupidity, or senility, that lead him to telling Georgia yes tonight. Because certainly he had to blame something. But he had only agreed to give her a ride home, and there were no rules against this sort of thing.  No need to. Nick was only dating Sam under pretense. Mutual benefit and mutual destruction. It’s not like they were _actually_ dating, so it’s not like he was actually cheating on Sam.

Somehow reminding himself of that fact did absolutely nothing to ease his sudden guilt.

For whatever it was worth, Cas didn’t look mad, just disappointed and a little sad, big dark eyes boring into Nick from the other side of the room. This did not help Nick one bit- nor did it stop Dean from coming over.

And about three minutes later Nick could taste blood and he wondered to himself if Sam knew what sort of brother he had. Sam- now Sam was lucky. Not everyone had family members quite as angry and protective and indignant as Dean managed to get so quickly over something as innocent as infidelity.

An evening that should have ended with Nick on his back with a beautiful view of a very naked brunet ended instead of with him sitting on a very uncomfortable hospital chair with his brother patting his knee. And Nick didn’t hurt _that_ bad. Mind you one hand had a few fingers that were a lovely shade of midnight, and the bar napkins that he’d been sucking on had soaked up just about as much blood as they could. But this wasn’t his first emergency room. And this by far wasn’t the worst injury he had sustained by being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the right company.

A nurse finally came to take Nick back after only a few hours of waiting and a few quarts of blood loss.

“I don’t want to see you around my brother anymore.” Dean didn’t lift his head from where he was resting it back against a plastic, potted plant. Just like he didn’t open his eyes, one of which was bruising a beautiful purple to offset the smear of red under his nose that had stopped bleeding a while back.  “Don’t come over, don’t call him. Just fuck off or I swear I’ll do more than break your hand.”

And Nick wasn’t sure exactly how Dean intended to let Sam know that he was now down a boyfriend, but that seemed to be semantics at this point.

There was no doubt in his mind that Dean would see an end to the little game that Nick had been playing with his younger brother.

It had been a good game while it lasted and he was more than sorry to see it ending.

Sorry and angry. Angry at the son of a bitch sitting there, holding Cas’ hand. Angry at Georgia for coming out of nowhere like she always did, with that smile and swagger and promise of the bad things that she would do to him.

Mostly he was just angry with himself. Angry with himself for seemingly having no control over his own body or its impulses.

Was it so wrong to want a little pleasant company every once in a while?

“You know what, _Dean_? You can go fuck yourself.” Which was a hell of a lot easier to say than ‘I screwed up’.

“Are you coming or should I call someone else?” The nurse had raised her clip board and looked about ready to start hitting both men indiscriminately at this point if they were going to start arguing again.

Nick followed her, but only because standing up had reminded his body that he was too old to be getting into fights with people who knew what they were doing.

He got to go and sit on a stiff hospital bed while his nurse mercilessly set his fingers, taped them, and put little stitches in his lip. It hurt like a son of a bitch, and the stern woman didn’t even offer him morphine. Which was just cruel.

 Instead she informed him that he should avoid spicy food and any aggressive mouth activities. He got the basic idea of what she meant, and what did it matter at this point because it’s not like anyone was going to be offering to do anything good to his mouth for quite some time.

Dean would go home and tattle on him- and if Nick was going to have to say goodbye to Sam early than planned that he had certainly picked a damned awful way to do it.

Nick was losing the best thing he currently had going for him and he wasn’t even getting laid tonight because of it. There was no good trade going on. Just him burning a perfectly good bridge.  

No one offered him a prescription for the pain, just a little paper cup with a handful of white pills which he was told not to mix with alcohol. Needless to say it was the very first thing that he chose to do when he finally got home. He knew it was a bad idea, but if he wasn’t going to get off tonight then he could at least get drunk. Drunk enough that he was still hurting from it the next afternoon.

He was dozing at work, taking comfort in the familiar smells and sounds. It felt more like home to him than any other place and right now he needed this. He needed that reassurance. He felt far too much like the miserable son of a bitch that he was.

Someone smacked his leg, startling him out of his half sleep. He sat, bolt upright in his chair, blinking wildly into the bright lights and of all the people to see standing over him, there was Sam.

Dean must have talked to him last night, and Sam must have not been satisfied to just let it go. One furious Winchester had been enough and Nick honestly didn’t think that he had another fight in him at this point. In fact, he knew he didn’t.

Sam would tell him what an awful human being he was and Nick wouldn’t really have a rebuttal for that.

Knowing that this could only end badly, Nick found himself getting defensive before anything else. “God damn it, Sam. You can’t go sneaking up on me like that.”

“What happened to you?” He asked like he didn’t know.

“Nice to see you too, Sam. How have you been?”

“I’m… I’m better than you I guess.” Sam shrugged, a passably worried look on his face, and he was a better actor that Nick had been giving him credit for. “Holly hell.”

“Thanks.” He sighed, because the last thing he needed was to be reminded what a mess he looked like at this point. He rubbed at an eye that he knew was bloodshot, then touched his lip, a short catalog of injuries.  God, but it hurt now that he was sober.

He looked up at Sam who was doing a spectacular job of still looming over him. Had the kid really come all this way to just rub some salt in those wounds? It was a bit more vindictive than Nick had expected, but no less than he felt he deserved.

“Are you alright?”

What a question.

“I’m _peachy_. How’s your brother?”

That seemed to startle Sam for some reason. “He’s… fine. How are your brothers?”

Were they really going to just drag this out? The anticipation of the impending fight was making his teeth hurt. He wanted to get it over with. He wanted to simply say their goodbyes with anger and irreverence and regret and then go back to his corner and go back to pretending that he was fine.

“Why _are_ you here, Sam?”

“I just hadn’t seen you in a few days. Wanted to say hi… I brought you a coffee.”

And it dawned on Nick that the kid might not be acting. It wasn’t feigned ignorance just to get under his skin. It was honest honesty.

There really was a coffee sitting there just for Nick and Sam didn’t know about last night.

Sam wasn’t leaving.

Nick knew he had no right to feel as relieved or as happy as he suddenly did. Because even if Sam didn’t know about it- last night had still happened. Dean and he had broken each other bad enough that the nurses had asked if either of them was intending to file a police report- but how do you tell a nurse that you had been caught cheating on your fake boyfriend (which makes it not cheating at all) and honestly felt like you deserved your injuries? You tell them about the same way that you tell your fake boyfriend.

Which was to say that you don’t tell.

Not a word of it.

Self preservation won out over guilt.

He wasn’t a good man. He didn’t deserve nice things. So when they suddenly fell in his lap he clung to them for as long as he could before someone noticed the error and took them away.

God, but Sam was one of those nice things that promised not to last much longer and Nick was every much the son of a bitch that Dean had accused him of being last night.

He took his coffee and he took Sam’s uncertain smile. He took whatever he could get while he could still get it.

He even took Sam’s permission to get a little something-something on the side as needed.

And it was a shame that Sam was so understanding and accommodating. It was a shame that the best relationship that Nick had ever had was just an elaborate lie.

It was a damn shame that Sam’s mouth was so soft when he kissed Nick’s cheek.

At least the coffee was good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> morning after chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing stupid boys is just about my favorite thing.

Sam was kicking at the tattered remains of colored paper, the aftermath of the present massacre that had taken place about an hour ago. He looked tired, and even though he was one of those obnoxiously cheerful morning people on regular occasions, Nick had a feeling that being woken up at six by the piercing shrieks of children was a bit much even for him. Now, Nick hadn’t come to one of these Christmas things in almost eight years, and he sure as hell wasn’t a morning person, but he was here, and Rehka had given him pity coffee and it was possible that if given another hour or so he might even feel human.

Hannah was the only family member he had that had stayed behind in favor of cinnamon rolls, sleeping against his chest while hugging a foil wrapped chocolate unicorn that was practically big enough for her to ride. Nick had been quite proud of managing to get a hold of that one for her. Hannah’s parents less so. But they would have to deal with their daughter being doped up on an ungodly amount of sugar- not Nick. Plus he got to keep on being the best uncle in the world, so that was good.

Sam’s knee jostled his, maybe for the first time, maybe for the fifth. It was just familiar and warm and good.

“I’m sorry ‘bout last night.” Sam mouthed against his temple. More felt than heard, like Morris code against Nick’s aching skull.

Too much to drink last night, quiet throbbing down in his bones, a churning in his stomach- and wait, why was Sam apologizing? Wouldn’t it be swell if the majority of last night wasn’t still swimming through a haze of rum. Nick ran down what he was sure of. He’d helped make dinner, colored with his niece, learned that Sam’s leg was ticklish (knowledge of which he was keeping to himself for later use). They ate, they’d cleaned up, they’d gotten caught under the mistletoe…  was that it? Sam hadn’t been exactly gentle when he’d grabbed Nick and kissed him, and god, but that wasn’t’ something that anyone needed to apologize for.

Nick opened his eyes, wincing at the kaleidoscope of colors from the Christmas tree lights. He licked his lips, rather chapped, still stitched together, and maybe a little bruised.

Sam’s mouth was still against his skin, which was an oddly dizzying feeling. “I ate most of your bracelet.”

Oh, was that all. What a relief. “You monster.” He accused softly just to keep up pretenses.

“That, and I think I got you talking about some things that you wouldn’t normally talk about.”

Nick’s hands tightened around his mug, and he wished he could see Sam’s face to have some idea of how bad this actually was. It was a horrible habit that he had. Rambling when he’d had too much to drink and there were at least four things that he could think of off the top of his head that he prayed that he never had to let Sam know about. Things that would send Sam packing.

“If you’re the one apologizing- that means I didn’t fuck it up too badly, right?” He dared to hope out loud.

“Watch it.” Sam warned, finally leaning back, slouching almost as low on the couch as Nick. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble talking like that.”

“I get myself in trouble talking like a lot of things.” He admitted softly, pushing his leg into Sam’s, careful not to wake Hannah. “What, uh, did we talk about last night?”

“You don’t remember?” And it was Sam’s turn to sound almost hopeful.

“Things get pretty hazy for me around dinner time.” He confessed.

Sam fought a smile, his mouth tightening just a little, dimples shadowing his cheeks. “Then last night didn’t happen.” A clear proclamation if there ever was one. Done and done. Wiped from memory. Wiped from the records.

“Oh, I _did_ fuck it up, didn’t I?” He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and just embracing every well earned ache in his body.

And Sam, Sam who didn’t seem to understand where the line in the sand was supposed to be, leaned over and kissed him like a whisper.

Nick’s breath caught in his throat and he felt his eyes go wide. It was already over and done, but the smallest hint of heat lingered. He pressed his lips together tight before biting the tip of his tongue. He watched Sam from far too close, his autumn colored eyes and his inappropriately serious expression.  Neither of them moved and if someone didn’t say something Nick was going to crack.

“If you want to play chicken I feel that I should warn you, I play for keeps.” It wasn’t much of a joke, but he needed to say something to distract his mouth from doing anything too stupid.

“I had to... I mean, it works to get rid of Dean in any case.”

Nick couldn’t argue with that.

Didn’t want to argue with that.

“Your brother’s lurking in the hall and he’s freaking me out.” Sam breathed quietly, his eyebrows low and far too solemn.

“Which one?”

“The scary one.”

_Which one was that?_

“Better go ahead an do it again, just in case he’s still there.”

Sam’s face went from serious to seriously not amused. And Nick wasn’t sure if that meant the guy was trying not to laugh or if Nick had just stepped a bit too far with that one.

“You two think you can stop playing tonsil hockey for a bit?” Gabriel asked loudly and unapologetically.

Nick blinked groggily as Sam leaned back, as Sam leaned away, and great was the loss.

“God damn it, Gabriel. What do you want now?”

“First off, this is _my_ house, I can suddenly walk into any room I pick.”  He strutted over in the cocky way he had that Nick hated even as he loved it, because his brother literally didn’t give a good god damn and Nick had always admired that. “Second, I didn’t suddenly walk into this room to talk to _you._ And thirdly, there is no kissing on the couch unless I’m invited.”

“Gabe, why don’t you take a flying leap into the pacific?”

“Come on, Luci, I brought you a cinnamon roll.” He held out a plate like a peace offering.

Nick eyed the pastry with well earned suspicion. “There’s no frosting on it.”

“I licked it off- but the rest of it’s still fine.”

And this, this was the ‘scary brother’. Nick felt that Sam’s fears were a bit misplaced.

Gabriel sat on the coffee table, close enough that he could almost touch Sam, though he kept his grubby hands to himself. “Fine, don’t take it. It was only meant to distract your grumpy ass for a few seconds.” He looked at Sam apologetically. “Our Nick has never been good at mornings. He used to punch the alarm clock if-”

“One time.” Nick inturupted, because his brother never could just let things be. He always had to bring up the worst things at the worst time.

Like pity, Sam leaned against him just a touch, enough to not be an accident and Nick wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to take from this, so he leaned back with just as much force. And when that wasn’t enough he slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders, which was awkward height-wise until Sam sunk a little lower, his shoulder notching just right against Nick’s ribs.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and had that fucking smile of his. “Other than to try and give you some breakfast, you’re actually not why I came in here.”

“Don’t want your sloppy seconds anyhow, creep.”

 “Funny you should mention that.” Gabriel’s smile turned into a grin as he turned his gaze to Sam. “I was talking to Rehka and-”

“Gabriel.” Nick warned, because he knew where this was going. Because this was not a new conversation. They had had it a week ago and again last night- and he’d told his brother that he was not to ask Sam about his asinine idea.

“Oh come on.” Gabriel turned back to him, easily sliding a few inches over on the coffee table. “I just wanna watch and she says it’s ok if you boys say it’s ok and-”

“I swear to god, Gabriel.” Nick bore his teeth and did his best to keep his voice low, and not just because it was more threatening, but because he still had a child sleeping on his chest. “No is no.”

Sam seemed to get a bit of an idea as to what was going on and he stiffened against Nick’s side. “Are you… are you asking if you can watch your brother and me have sex?” He struggled through the molasses of Gabriel’s words arriving at thankfully the wrong, but no less horrible, conclusion.

“God no. That would be weird. Even for us.” And at least you could count on Gabriel to make a correction where one was needed. “I’m asking if I can watch you two have sex with my wife.”

Nick closed his eyes and tried to count to ten. He ended up having to do a bit more than that, going so far as to silently spell out words like ‘fratricide’ and ‘justifiable murder’ before he managed to look at his brother again. He set his coffee firmly on the table, wanting a free hand in case he needed to smack someone. “I said _no_.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes like he was having to deal with a particularly difficult child and not the other way around.  He lightly slapped at Sam’s knee. “Anywhoo, you pay him no mind. If it comes down to it we’ll just uninvite him. This is my Christmas present to you.” He leaned into Sam and pulled a scrap of paper from behind his ear like a magic trick. “It’s my phone number.” _Tadah_. He looked so damn proud of himself.

Before Sam could manage to get his wits about him and think of a good way to respond to the little blonde train wreck sitting before him, Nick snatched away the offering, crumbling up the bit of paper and tossed it into his coffee cup, watching it sink.

“ _Hey_.” Gabriel whined softly, not sounding at all surprised, but at the same time very disappointed.

Nick looked his brother straight in the eye as he raised his mug and took a pointed sip.  

“I don’t know why we even invite you to these things. You are _literally_ the least fun brother.” Gabriel kept up his whining, he was real good at it. “And you’re uninvited.” He folded his arms over his thin little chest angling himself in the most disapproving ways possible. “If you’re not going to have the decency to touch my wife where I can watch then you don’t get to touch her at all.”

Sam said nothing, and it was probably the shock setting in- but Nick had tried to warn him about it before hand.

“Gabriel, go back to the rest of the family where you’re safe.” He told his brother carefully.

And Gabriel sighed in that way of his before getting up; looking every inch like the long suffering saint that he was not. “Do you see what I have to put up with? In my own house. On Christmas day.” He left under a cloud of his own self pitying remarks.

Nick was happy to see him go.

Nick was also terrified when Sam shifted against him.

“He wasn’t serious, right?”

That didn’t feel like a question that really wanted or needed an answer so Nick simply took another sip of coffee and closed his eyes.

The silence between them stretched a little too thin- and this was exactly why he had told his brother not to ask Sam. Because Sam was a good kid and didn’t need any inclination as to how weird this family really was.

 “I mean… he wasn’t really asking if he could- if _we_ could-“

And Nick could have lied, but he didn’t and he honestly didn’t know why. “Gabriel almost always means what he says. He just makes a point to say it with that shit eating grin of his so you can’t tell that he means it.”

Sam dragged the unease out for just about as long as he could before it became inhumane. Then he turned his head, pressing a kiss into the side of Nick’s neck- just as gentle and just as ruthless as he always was. “You’re family’s weird.”

And that was that.

He stayed resting against Nick, soft mouth along the chokingly fast pulse there, his breaths slow and even. There was no way that he couldn’t notice the havoc he was causing. But somehow he managed to fall back asleep. Napping quietly in the early morning like this was the most natural place in the world for him to settle.   

Even knowing that he shouldn't, Nick let his head fall against Sam’s, all that long, soft hair tickling him just a bit- but he didn’t care. 

Just like he didn't care when family came in to check on them a while later only to find the three of them asleep in a little pile on the couch with Nick at the epicenter. Warm and comfortable and enjoying some of the best sleep he'd had in recent memory. A small indulgence that was like a Christmas present to himself.

And that wasn’t too selfish, was it?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> falling between ch 11 and 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... you may notice that there is no chapter 12 in the mama story as of this moment. I can promise that it's almost done, which also means it might be another week or so until I get it cleaned up and posted.  
> In the mean time, have some stupid fluff that's been sitting here on my computer for about 5ever.  
> I don't even care if I said I wasn't going to let this story get ahead of the other one.  
> I am a bad writer like that ^_^

Twenty-four.

There were twenty-four notable ridges to Sam’s spine before the curve of muscle dipped too low and too interesting to follow.

Twenty-four. Nick knew. He had counted them almost a hundred times over the last hour, his fingertips running almost slick with the thin sheen of sweat, pressing into each dip and arch. And wasn’t your body temperature supposed to drop when you’ve been drinking? Nick swore he could remember reading that somewhere- that even though you feel hot, it’s just you’re blood running thin and you’re actually much colder than you should be.

What did he know though?

Sam was practically burning. Smoldering and heavy against him, sleeping sprawled out, pinning Nick down with weighted limbs against his chest and whisky sour breath along his throat. Immovable. The both of them. One too drunk, the other too much a coward to do anything about it.

The kid had told Nick that he wanted to get drunk.

Nick had helped.

At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do.

To help even if he wasn’t sure that this was the best way.

A few hours later and Nick had doubts.

But it was too late.

What’s the saying though- you’ve made your bed, now sleep in it?

Except they weren’t in bed, they were stuck on the stupid couch. The couch which Nick had always thought was a bit too short, and was now convinced of it, as well as it being too narrow. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. Though it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable either.

He let his fingers drift dangerously low, over skin, over denim, over the pleasant curve of Sam’s ass before he realized what he was doing and quickly moved his hand back up to a safer hemisphere. Though to be fair, his hand was still under Sam’s shirt and he hadn’t _really_ moved it back up there as quickly as he knew he should have.

Nick’s cell phone vibrated noisily against the table, just out of reach. Sam didn’t even flinch, didn’t stir. Just as good as dead to the world. It was only his deep, slow breaths and staggering body temperature that let Nick know that he was even still alive at this point. The kid had managed to drink almost a fifth of whisky before he passed out, and for someone who supposedly wasn’t all that good at drinking it had been impressive.

Sam was an interesting drunk if nothing else, though interesting was a very gentle term for it. Intimidating was a bit better, though Nick had a feeling that he only considered that particular word due to the fact that Sam was roughly twice the size of a normal human. Which meant that there was a lot more of him to be drunk than Nick usually had to deal with. He was also a surly drunk. Very handsy. Very mouthy.  Very…  expressive.

Nick closed his eyes and started counting again, slowly, from one to twenty-four.

His phone started ringing again.

It had been doing that a lot lately.

It might have had something to do with the fact that he kept on not answering it.

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

His door handle rattled and Nick opened his eyes, would have sat up if he didn’t have what he estimated to be roughly two hundred pounds of man laying on top of him.

“Nick?” The voice was soft all the way on the other side of the door.

 _Oh god._ Nick cringed and closed his eyes tight, praying that Gabriel might just go away on his own if not answered.

The handle rattled again. “Nick. You in there?”

“No.” He whispered with passion, not wanting to wake Sam- even though he didn’t think he could at this point even if he needed to.

But the damn door opened because Gabriel never had let little things like locks slow him down. He looked pale, wide eyed, uncharacteristic worry written on his face for a fraction of a second before he honed in on the couch, taking in the pile of Nick and Sam- then he slipped easily into one of those knowing smirks of his. Smug for no good reason other than that he could be.

“And here I was, worried about leaving you like you were last night.” He let himself in, as comfortably as if he lived here.  “Then you weren’t answering your phone, and I though, holy hell, Nick’s gone and done something painfully stupid again- but look at you. You took Rehka’s advice.”

“I didn’t apologize to him.” Nick carefully adjusted Sam’s shirt, making sure that he was as covered as he could be, because Gabriel was not allowed to see any more of Sam than absolutely necessary.

“Did you just win him back with the promise of booze?” Gabriel investigated the mostly empty pile of shot glasses with a skeptical eye. He lifted one and took a sniff before making a face and putting it back on the table. “Sorry, I mean paint thinner. Seriously, how do you drink this?”

“With my mouth.” Nick clicked his teeth for emphasis, an aggressive little noise which didn’t even make Gabriel flinch.

“You two kids do a lot of fun things with your mouths today?”

Nick happily suggested his brother go do something to himself that was almost definitely anatomically impossible.

Gabriel only grinned and sat himself down on the coffee table, picking up Nick’s phone and poking at the screen. “Apparently Rehka left her earrings here last night. She told me to come get them after work- but I think she did it on purpose so that she’d have an excuse to make me come check on you.”

“Get the damn earrings. Tell the goddess that I didn’t drink myself into a coma, or reenlist, or anything even half as damaging to my health. Then kindly go the fuck away.”

“I get it. I get it.” Gabriel was typing something into Nick’s phone, cheerful little jabs of his fingers. “You want more alone time with your boy toy- can’t say I blame you one bit. But you seem to have found his limit… about three shots ago if my guess is right, and I’m not actually interrupting anything good. God, but I wish I was.” He gave them both a lecherous look before resuming his typing. “You two must be hotter than hell when you get going. But this? This is just… it’s cute, Nick. You’re _adorable_.” He said it almost like a bad word.

“Shut up.”

“Did you call him or did he call you?” His eyebrows furrowed just a touch and he scrolled along Nick’s cell screen.  “Neither, but you’ve been texting his _brother_?”

“Give me the damn phone.” Nick held a hand out, fingers reaching.

“What the hell is this?” Gabriel held the phone aloft, easily out of reach even if he was only a few feet away. Because he was sitting up and Nick was laying and it made all the difference in the world. He started to read the text aloud, but Nick wasn’t listening. He knew the few short texts by heart. Dean wasn’t the kind of guy to mess around with extra words.

- **if he means fucking anything to you come get Sam out of the house right now**

\- **and don’t be gay about it.**

Gabriel managed to make all Dean’s demands one big question.

Nick let his hand fall, giving up on that course of action in favor of devoting every though to a good lie for this one.

“You ask what’s wrong and he says ‘just come get him’?” Gabriel wasn’t looking at the phone now, he wasn’t even looking at Nick, his pale eyes were all for Sam. “Was he just as much a mess without you as you were without him?”

And that would have been a good enough excuse, but it gave a weakness to Sam that Nick didn’t feel entitled to impart. Despite everything else, he honestly struggled to do his best to portray Sam as he was- or at least as he viewed the young man to be. A gentle giant. Strong, and almost naively sweet, but rough when he wanted to be. Nick had never felt comfortable adding on to those traits, even for the sake of a good story. He couldn’t lie and make Sam a kinky son of a bitch in bed any more than he could say that the guy was weak enough to actually _need_ someone like Nick in his life.

“Not even half right.” He put his arm over his eyes, blocking out the light as best as he could. Not even half as drunk as Sam had managed to get himself, but his head was still starting to pound anyways. “He doesn’t get along with his father and Dean needed a good excuse to get Sam out of the house before things got bad.” This was a condensed and cleaned up version of the mess that Sam had told him about halfway into their game of checkers. It was close enough to what Nick assumed was the truth without giving out too much information that Gabriel frankly didn’t need. And the best kinds of lies were always made up of bits of truth anyways.

“Oh, he’s got daddy problems?” Gabriel lit up for all the wrong reasons, latching on to his brother’s words in a way he wasn’t meant to. “Some of the hottest girls I’ve met had daddy problems.”

Gabriel was a family divorce lawyer and Nick really didn’t want to think about the circumstances in which the man might have had opportunity to meet such girls.

“Seriously, Gabe. Go find her earrings and get out.”

“Why? I mean, again, I’m not interrupting anything good- and I _am_ worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” He managed to put a lot of aggression into those two words and was rather proud of himself for it.

“I mean like, seriously worried at this point, Nick. You’ve got yourself a young, gorgeous, leggy piece of man all to yourself. And I can only assume that he picked you because you fill some need to have an old, mean, drunk bastard in his life- hello dad complex? And instead of apologizing for cheating on him, taking him back to your place, and giving him a good spanking like I’m sure he would love- you two play checkers and pass out drunk?”    

“I’m not drunk or passed out.” He ground his teeth, doing his best to focus on how much Gabriel made his headache worse, and less on how the man’s words had struck a nerve. It was a good thing that every bit of what was going on between them was based on a mutual lie, because it ruled out Nick being some kind of weird, stand in, abusive father figure. The idea made him uncomfortable in ways he didn’t know he could be.

“Were you vodka or whisky this time?”

“Vodka.” Nick admitted uneasily.

Gabriel counted the undrunken shots before giving his brother a knowing look. “Not passed out, but nowhere near sober by this point. I’m surprised that you’re not slurring worse than you are.”

“I’m… I’m not slurring.”

“Ah, but you _are_ , you just can’t tell- which probably puts you at about a seven out of ten on the drunk o’meter.”

Nick peeked out from under his arm, wincing a little at the sunlight that could suddenly reach him.

“Maybe you’ve just gained a plus two to your alcohol tolerance since we last went out drinking together.” He was looking through Nick’s phone again. “You know what I find the most depressing about all this? You don’t even have any dirty pics in your phone. No sexts. No nothing. You two are seriously boring. Did you know that?”

“I’m old and tired. What were you expecting?”

“He’s not old. He’s what, nineteen? He’s made to be hot and wild. Chalk full of hormones and bad ideas. Mmnh.” Gabriel bit his lip. “I remember when I was his age. A seven nation army couldn’t make me keep it in my pants.”

“First off, he’s in his twenties.” Nick insisted, because this was a vital point that obviously needed clarification.  “And second, not everyone is a frisky little bastard like you were back in the day… or like you still are for that matter.”

“Aw, you noticed.” He peered up from the phone, a mock bashful expression on his stupid little face.

“It’s hard not to notice being related to the god damned reincarnation of fucking Lord Byron.”

Gabriel lit up, slapping the phone down on the table. “Is that what happened? He figured out that you’re not actually as stupid as you try to come off as and you guys have some kind of deep seeded nerdy love going on now? Like you talk about books and philosophy and crap like that instead of having rough, borderline illegal sex like you should be?”

“Just because I don’t save incriminating dick pics to my phone doesn’t mean that there’s anything deeper going on between us. No one said anything about love. Nerdy or otherwise.”

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Luci.” So damn smug, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin cradled between his hands. “Rehka told me about what you said last night, and that woman knows a smitten kitten when she sees one.”

“Seriously?” Maybe Nick was a bit more drunk than he felt interested in admitting. But _smitten kitten_? Oh hell no.

“Come on. You two have a fight last week. You revert back to the same miserable you that you’ve been for years. Then he needs you and you rush in to save him, and you two cuddle and nap.” He made a face. “I’m doing my damndest to rile you up, but you’re too happy because you have your Sam back. Admit it. He makes you happy, even without the sex weighing in.” Gabriel accused. “You’re all bark and no bite. And according to a very reliable source it was quite the other way around last night.”

Nick wondered if he let himself get angry enough he would be able to summon up some inhuman strength to push Sam off and go for his brother’s skinny little neck.

“I don’t mind you borrowing my wife every now and then. But I would appreciate it if you sent her back to me in roughly the same condition that you found her in. You may have other options in your little black book, but she’s the only one I’ve got.”

“She’s the only one who puts up with the fact that you’re an abrasive jackass.”

“She is a patient and longsuffering woman.” Gabriel agreed with a smile, completely unphased by his brother’s insults.

Nick put his arm back over his eyes and did his best to just sink into the couch. To disappear between cushions and unconscious boyfriend, somewhere dark and quiet where awful little men couldn’t say horrible things.

Gabriel was an obnoxious ass who liked to rub everyone the wrong way like it was the best game since Hungry Hungry Hippos. But he also raised some unpleasant ideas that were more than a little hard to shake.

“How’s about shutting that god ugly mouth of yours and helping me get Sam to bed so he can be passed out in peace. Then I’ll help you find your wife’s earrings.”

“You can’t move him on your own?”

“He’s half man, half sequoia. Even if I could somehow pick him up, which I don’t have the leverage to do, he’s too long for me to carry without dragging.”

“I bet he’s long.”

“Don’t.” Was all Nick said to that. The one word thick with warning.

Gabriel got up reluctantly and took Sam’s comically long legs. “Fine. I’ll help but only because I want to.”

Nick managed to slide himself off the couch, no grace and all clumsy coordination made worse from the after buzz of drinking. “You touch him more than you need to, more than necessary to carry his gangly ass to bed, I’ll throw you out the window.”

For a second, the younger brother looked like he wanted to argue, to say that there was no way that Nick would actually toss him from the fourth floor, but their eyes met and Gabriel looked away first. “You really like him, don’t you?” He asked as the two of them they carried-slash-dragged him to the bedroom.

Nick didn’t answer Gabriel’s question because at this point lying to keep up the lie and telling the truth would both produce the same response and that sort of scared him. It shouldn’t. But it did.  So he did his best to busy his mind and hands with unlacing Sam’s shoes and tossing them beneath the bed, aware that his brother was watching every little movement. Judging.

Gabriel prodded the mess of blankets, curious expression. “Was he mad about last night?”

“About me and your wife? No.” Sam didn’t know about the weird relationship that Nick had with his sister-in-law. He didn’t know that she had spent the night last night. There was no reason for him to be mad.

“No.” Gabriel repeated in a mocking tone. “He must either really like you or really hate his dad.”

“Why it can’t be both?” He pulled a blanket over Sam and went to go look for Rehka’s earrings.

“Have you met yourself?” Gabriel followed on his heels, relentless. “You are probably the biggest reason as to why he can’t possibly like you.”

“Thanks.”

Gabriel stood uncomfortably close, as was his practice, and offered no help what so ever in the search for his wife’s misplaced jewelry. “Hey, I’m just being honest.  You’re not the easiest guy to like. You’re a mean, sarcastic, son of a bitch and that’s on your good days.”

“Again, thanks.” If he wasn’t already halfway to a walking hangover he would probably have taken a swing at his brother just on principle, even knowing it wouldn’t help. It’s not like Gabriel was lying, so smacking him around wouldn’t really serve a purpose other than to make himself feel better.

“You know I love you. You’re my big, grumpy, space princess. But I’ve known you since before your glorious fall from grace, back when you still remembered how to smile. Does that big drunk college boy in there know _that_ you?”

“I told you not to call me that.” Nick rubbed a hand over his mouth, pointedly not looking over at his brother, trying to find those damned earrings.

“Does he know about how you almost got a Masters degree but dropped out to play house with the psycho bitch? Or that every year you take Cas to the dentist and hold his hand because he’s too scared to go on his own- because you still feel guilty about showing him that horror movie with the evil dentist when he was fourteen?”

 “Not really things that were important enough to bring up.” He actually really enjoyed not talking about himself to Sam... or really anyone.

“Does he know that you can make grown men weep with your violin playing? Or that you carry a saint Jude medallion because you actually think that it might help you. That you taught little kidies in Sunday school for almost three years? And that you’re pen pals with a little girl in Las Vegas who you are legally not allowed contact with mainly because you threatened the judge at the custody hearing with bodily harm if he tried to take you daughter away from you?”

Nick found the ear rings and pressed them into Gabriel’s hand. “I’m all grown up now. Just a big, mean, son of a bitch. And the big drunk college boy in the other room likes me that way. God knows why. But I’m not going to question it and neither should you. Now go home to your wife.”

Gabriel almost looked serious for about three seconds, a pained expression passing through his eyes, words he couldn’t voice because they’d never had that kind of relationship- at least not when one of them was still sober. But he shrugged it off with a smile, and held the ear rings up, examining them as if they might be someone else’s and he needed to be sure. “Can you do me a favor, Luci?”

“If it gets you out of here faster, sure.”

“When he wakes up, and the hangover wears off, and you two start getting all touchy because it’s been a week and you missed each other’s naked man bodies- can I get a picture?”

“A picture of what?”

“Your smoking hot naked boyfriend. Duh.”

“Go home, Gabe.”

“I don’t need the full monty. Maybe just a bit of those hips, or glimpse of that ass…” He got a distant, almost dreamy look in his eyes.

Nick took him by the shoulders and steered him towards the door, giving him all the help in the world to get the hell out. “Go home.”

“Come on, man. I lent you my wife. The least you could do is let me ogle your boyfriend once in a while.”

Nick opened the door. “You do know that all she did was make herself a martini and we laid in bed eating ice cream, watching westerns, and talking about how much we hate you?”

“You both love me.”

“We both hope that you get lost in the woods and eaten by wild dogs.” He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. “Drive safe.”

“God, you smell like a distillery.” But he said it so fondly it was almost a complement. “When he wakes up, even if you’re not feeling it, apologize to him. He deserves a good man and you used to be one. Lie and pretend that you still are.”

“Shut up.” Nick could hear the affection in his own voice and he hated it.

“We all saw the two of you during Christmas, smiling and laughing. Hell, you actually _came_ to Christmas for the first time since you and Michael had that throw down after the divorce. The kid’s good for you.”

“He’s _too_ good for me.”

“Don’t fuck it up, Nick.” Gabriel warned sternly.

It was good advice.

He wished he was allowed to follow it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little before chapter 12?  
> Somewhere mid 12?  
> I don't know. 
> 
> I told you guys that these things were just kind of little bits and pieces.  
> This one is particularly little, and it doesn't really go anywhere.  
> I just like awkward interactions between Nick and Dean.

 

Nick wasn’t particularly fond of Dean Winchester. It wasn’t like the man had ever done anything wrong specifically… except for breaking his hand- but Nick had kind of earned that one so it didn’t count. In the grand scheme of things, the big picture, he just didn’t like him.

But Sam liked his big brother. Really liked him in a way that was almost fanatic. And Nick was fairly sure that Sam wouldn’t have seen it that way, but at the same time Sam had been drunk off his ass while he explained the perfection of the man. While he told Nick how his big brother had kept him safe- which felt like a very relative term- from their alcoholic father while growing up. Drunk and slurring and talking with little to no emotion at all as he showed Nick old scars, leaning against him and tossing back shots of whisky like a pro. Quietly asking Nick if it was ok for him to stay for a few days.

Dean wouldn’t mind. Maybe he hated Nick, but he would understand.

And of course it was fine.

Sam could move in and never leave if that is what he was asking. If that’s what he needed.

Just a few days.

And Nick agreed, feeling so unjustly protective, so angry that it hurt. Too angry for words, so he nodded and kept an arm around Sam until the kid hid his face in Nick’s throat and fell asleep with the grace that only the truly drunk can manage. Boneless and murmuring.

And Dean had sent Sam here to keep him safe, so maybe the guy wasn’t all that bad.

Even now, years and a few thousand miles away from what sounded like a possibly criminal childhood, and Dean was still keeping Sam safe.

Maybe Nick just didn’t like their dad.

Despite what some people might think, Nick had grown up in what he considered a positively loving environment. Sure, his mom had been a drug addict, but she’d always done her best to take care of him. Made sure he had food. Made sure he had clothes and a place to sleep. And when she could no longer provide those things, she made sure that he went to someone who could. That was love as far as he could tell. His father had had no fucking clue what to do with Nick- but that hadn’t stopped him from trying his best to do right by the wide eyed little boy who arrived on his doorstep. And he’d done alright in the long run. Four sons, none of them currently in jail, none of them with any addictions to illicit or illegal substances. All with good jobs and decent educations.

And Nick could see that same intention that his father had in the way that Sam talked about his big brother.

But even knowing that, all those good intentions, Nick still didn’t like talking to the guy.

“How’s he doing?”

Nick looked down the hall at the lump that he’d left in his room, then back to the phone. “He’s passed out drunk in my bed.”

“He drank? God. How much?”

“Almost half a bottle of whisky.” He said after looking at the abandoned game of checkers.

“Damn it.” Dean sighed over the phone, voice oddly hushed like this conversation was something of a secret. “He’s… he’s not good at drinking.”

“He seemed pretty capable to me.” Nick looked away from the little pile of shot glasses.

“If you got my brother drunk and did anything weird to him-”

“Like what? What the fuck do you think I would do to him?” Nick half sat up, bristling, all that anger boiling right back up to the surface.

“Like take advantage of him while he’s all college-girl drunk. Because I swear to god-”

“What kind of sick fuck do you think I am?” Nick almost threw his phone. Temper. Temper. Temper. But he swallowed it down, biting his tongue.

“I don’t know, man.” Dean took a hard breath, rasping over the phone, almost apologetic. “But he’s my brother and he’s not ok. Not if he’s been drinking.”

“He’s alright. He’s just sleeping it off.”

“I can come get him. Take his sorry ass back home.”

“No. It’s alright. He asked if he could stay here for a few days. I don’t mind.”

Dean made hesitant noises. “He’s… he’s coming down with a cold or something.”

“Is he?” Mind you, Sam had been otherwise occupied in his emotions and thoughts, no real room for mentioning any under the weather type feelings.

“He’s… yeah. I… I’ll pack up some clothes for him if you wanna’ swing by.” He chuckled roughly. “Be like I’m sending him off to one of those summer camps he always wanted to go to.”

Nick felt an unwilling chuckle tear at his throat. “Ok, _mom_. I’ll be by in about half an hour.”

He lied. He was there in about twenty minutes, only after leaving water, Tylenol and a note in the bathroom where Sam was sure to find it. Dean met him at the front door holding a paper bag packed with sundries that the man thought his brother might need over the next few days. Nick couldn’t help it, peeking into the bag curiously. Some clothes, a toothbrush, bottle of NyQuil, and…

“Condoms?” He glanced back up at Dean.

The man had the decency to shrug in a way that was ever so slightly embarrassed. “I’m only assuming that you’ve apologize to him,” more of a warning and less of a suggestion, “and once he’s feeling better you two are going to make up for that week you missed being angry at each other. And you fucking better be having safe sex. I hear gay guys can catch all kinds of things if they aren’t careful.”

“You… you really thought of everything.” Would it be inappropriate to say thank you?

“Yes.” Dean said firmly before handing over a large tuperware that was still hot to the touch. “The soup’s for him. _Not_ you.” Which was followed by a meaningful look.

“When did you have time to make him soup?” They’d only just barely gotten off the phone.

“I started making it this morning before he rolled his sick ass out of bed.”

Nick looked down at the armful of brotherly love and wondered if he caught sick… if any of his brothers would go through even half as much trouble for him. Probably not. Though Gabriel might start calling dibs on his stuff if things looked bad enough.

“You take good care of him.”

“Like he was my own brother.”

“I’ve seen how you treat your brothers.”

“Like he was my own Sam.”

“Fair enough.” Dean rubbed at his face, glancing back over his shoulder like he was expecting someone to come up behind him. “Keep an eye on him. Ok?” There was a lot of unspoken something in that little bit of a request.

“Ok.” He swore the most solemn of all promises.

And he tried. He really did. It wasn’t his fault that he got the same damn cold as Sam. Germs all over his stupid apartment and by day two he was just as sick, curled up in bed beside Sam, coughing up a lung. There was a while that they shared their misery, then the younger man was on the mend and he took it on himself to look after Nick.

Maybe he didn’t have a brother to come keep an eye on him when he felt half dead.

But he had a Sam.

A fake boyfriend and friend.

It was just as good.

Maybe better.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a little backlog of these things at this point.  
> But a lot happened in chapters 12 and 13 and Nick went through a lot of... feelings somewhere in the background.  
> Rereading though this I almost think that I'm giving him too many feels?- but everyone had these flashbang moments of doubt and concern and neurosis that they just force back down because they know not to put too much weight in them.
> 
> I've always imagind Nick as someone who had a lot going on inside and he just keeps it well and thoroughly covered up, a lot like Dean does. Joking and smiling so that no one suspects anything's gone amiss. 
> 
> I like to ramble late at night when I should be sleeping, but I don't keep normal hours. I really need someone here telling me to go to bed.  
> Have a baby chapter. I'll try to get another one of these up this weekend <3 because blanket forts and kissing.  
> I don't feel that I need any better reasons than those.

 

Today was supposed to be a good day. Nick deserved a good day. He’d spent so long laying around just being sick- and maybe getting a lap full of Sam wasn’t necessarily a bad thing- but at the Sam time, what the every living fuck was Nick supposed to do with him now? What do you do when your friend looks up at you with very expressive eyes, foists a phone into his hands and asks ‘how do you want me’?

The honest answer was ‘any way I can have you’.

Nick had literally spent weeks formulating and sharing stories about the bad things that he and Sam could be doing to each other. It had started out as a necessity. As proof of this fraudulent relationship to give to Gabriel. Now he was thinking about it for non validating reasons. Daydreaming. Just for fun. Sometimes in the shower. Quietly damning himself to hell with each new little fantasy.

You shouldn’t think about your friends like this.

Shouldn’t.

Just really shouldn’t.

But Nick hadn’t found a way to stop himself, just like he hadn’t found the will to want to find a way to stop himself.

So he’d taken the offering of the phone, and he had taken all those ‘oh god I shouldn’t be doing this’ feelings, and he’d taken an armful of his friend.

 Nick was determined to have it all.

Sam fit against his chest too perfectly, and his wild, startled laugh made it even worse… or better.

Nick lined up the shot just like he’d been taught to. All those years of art class coming in to override the sway of hormones that had tried to drag him down. Nice and analytical. Anatomical. Pale shadows and insufficient lighting discoloring their skin, washing everything in unnatural hues. And was it really fair that Sam had a photogenic back? Lawyers weren’t supposed to be built like this guy was. All lean muscle and tragically disruptive angles.

“Hold it.”

And Sam did. He took a sharp breath and every muscle in his body went tight as a wire. He even held his breath.

Nick couldn’t get a dog to stay. But Sam? Sam was practically trembling against him, waiting to hear the next request. It was everything that Nick could do to not try and take advantage of that. To not push those hazy boundaries just a little further.

With a great force of will, he tugged the kid’s jeans back up- because he was a gentleman. He also smacked that ass- because he wasn’t a saint.

“That’s it?” Sam didn’t move other than a flick of his eyes from the phone’s camera to Nick’s face.

“That’s it.” He announced as he lowered the phone to a more comfortable angle for them to both admire.

And Sam, legs so long he’d make a giraffe jealous, with those broad shoulders and glorious princess hair, turned and settled himself back against Nick’s chest. They fit together even better this way. So Nick slid an arm around his friend, settling in if that’s what he had permission to do- because it didn’t matter how fevery or off kilter he felt with this damn cold still making his chest tight and his head heavy. Nick wasn’t going to say no to some quality heteronormative spooning.

“It’s… it’s not much.” Sam said slowly in the same way that people sometimes would say when they looked the paintings that Nick had done during his minimalist phase.

He wasn’t offended by that careful pussy footing. “It’s subtle.” He corrected the verbiage. “Suggestive. What were you expecting?”

Sam hesitated, tilting his head and stared a bit harder at the picture. “Mmmh… something more like what we were looking at? A lot more _ass_ in a picture of my ass…” he seemed to struggle trying to find the words that he wanted. His shoulders stiffened and he peered up through his mess of hair. “But that’s why we ended up twenty pages deep in Google- because you wanted something more like this.” And Sam laughed in that soft, horrible way that he had. “You really are weird. You know that?”

Nick made an affirmative noise and texted the picture to Gabriel because if it had Sam’s approval it was obviously good to go. And he was fully aware that he was a bit odd. But what’s wrong with being odd? “If I’m going to be sending a _real_ picture of your _real_ body to my gross little brother, it’s going to be tasteful. Not you spread out and X rated.”

Not that Nick _wouldn’t_ take those kinds of pictures if the opportunity presented itself- but he definitely wouldn’t share them. Oh no. Not with any member of his family. Lord only knew what Gabriel would do with something so incriminating.

Probably the exact same thing that Nick would do, actually.

Bad thoughts to be having with the object of his temptation sitting in his lap.

Nick deleted the picture from his phone, doing his best to pretend that it had never been taken. Slipping quietly into his happy place, and Sam seemed to be slipping right along with him. Warm and close and damned near intoxicating.

That was probably just the fever talking… right?

Right?

Oh, but Nick couldn’t have it this bad.

It wasn’t fair.

He just wanted a nice day where he could watch his bad movies and laugh and cough and sink into the sickly embrace of death.

But this?

This was good too.

He kissed the top of Sam’s head where it was resting back against his shoulder, and his friend harrumphed softly, approvingly. It was like damned divine permission.

Nick nosed gently through that mess of hair, thinking that he liked how Sam smelled right now- and that wasn’t the most normal thing to think in that moment, but it _was_ the most honest thing that he was willing to admit to himself.

He kissed Sam’s temple, soft skin along his hair line and was rewarded with a second little noise, halfway between a grunt and a squeak. Surprised, but not upset.

Maybe Nick should have accepted the offer of medication. The fever was making him dizzy. He pulled Sam a little tighter, using him for support as he kissed behind his friend’s ear. No logic in the gesture. It was just where his mouth wanted to go. His lips found Sam’s throat, that rabbiting pulse practically frantic against his tongue.

“Nick?” Sam asked so softly it was negligible. Hardly even a question at all, just a hesitant breath.

The older man went stiff, suddenly realizing what he was doing.

Of all the jackass, idiotic, reckless things that he could have done right then.

Kissing Sam’s throat was just about as good at loudly announcing to Sam ‘hey, I’ve got this uncomfortably gay crush on you. Have for weeks now. Would love to strip you down and do terrible things to that fine body of yours, or you just cuddle up and drink hot cocoa. Maybe adopt a puppy. I’d be cool with that too.’

Or… you know. Something slightly less specific.

He leaned back, his whole body going tense at the horror at this slip up. “Yeah?” He asked once he remembered to breathe.

Sam reached up to touch his own neck, rubbing fitfully at the place that Nick’s mouth had just vacated. It was an almost frantic gesture, fingers jumping, agitated as he scrubbed at the spot. Great.

The kid cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm.” Nick cleared his throat too, trying to collect his thoughts, doing what he could to keep his pride intact. “Chest is a little tight and my eyes hurt.” That was the fever. Had to just be the fever making him feel this way.

Sam took a sharp breath, sounding like he was forcing a smile even though Nick couldn’t see his face. “Want some more NyQuil?”

And that’s what Nick got. He had made an unwanted, half conscious pass at a straight man and got in return an offering of cold medicine. Sam must think that Nick was far, far worse off than he was. Might even be blaming his actions on the chest cold instead of the other, more damaging sickness that was growing inside of him. Lucky Nick. He had an excuse that sounded a hell of a lot better than ‘because I wanted to’.

“No.” He decided to pass up on the cherry red evil that he’d been taking shots of for the past week. “That stuff knocks me loopy and it’s not actually as fun as I thought it would be.”

Sam turned a little, looking up at Nick with those round, dark eyes of his. He reached out, long fingers sliding up Nick’s cheek, pressing to his forehead. “Your fever’s back. Let me go get you something.” And Sam _ran_. He straight up rolled from the bed and vanished off into the dark of the apartment.

Nick found himself suddenly quite alone, and kind of cold, and fairly full of self loathing.

So at least he had that going for him.

And Sam didn’t come back.

Not right away at least.

He gave Nick a good chance to really think about what he’d done. Like the timeouts that he used to get in the corner when he was a kid. Couldn’t say it ever helped him then, it certainly didn’t help him now.

Whether he blamed his fever or not, Nick couldn’t keep doing this. Sam was… he was too important to risk losing over something as stupid as unwanted feelings.

And part of it had to be circumstantial. It _had_ to, because Nick sure as hell wouldn’t keep fucking up like this if Sam had been a female friend of his. He wouldn’t keep skirting around those boundaries if it have been anyone else- because if someone’s not interested you don’t keep pushing. It was practically harassment at this point. Even if the kid kept taking it with a smile.

Nick took a slow and shaking breath, putting everything inside him back where it was supposed to be. Tucked away. Safe and sound where he couldn’t do anymore damage to himself… or Sam, or whatever strained bits of friendship between them that he hadn’t manage to completely lay ruin to by this point.

He just about had everything under control when Sam returned to the room, wearing that easy smile of his like nothing had happened and Nick felt crippled, like he’d had his knees taken out from under him.

So easily, Sam handed over some pills and climbed back into bed, not quite as close as before, but he was _there_.

Their hands accidentally touched somewhere on the bed between them and when Sam didn’t pull away Nick felt the tightness in his chest ease a fraction.

Sam had to have suspicions at this point. Nick wasn’t exactly subtle.

But he was still holding Nick’s hand and that clammy warmth where their skin met, that’s what forgiveness felt like.

Maybe today could still be a good day after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geez. I suddenly realized how long this one was and had to cut off about half of it. There is some small effort over here going on to not let this little side story turn into some kind of enormous novel length beast like the other story did.  
> Just baby chapters  
> little nibbles
> 
> nom nom
> 
>  
> 
> this chapter is for t anyone who has developed an unhealthy attachment to Gabriel and Nick's rad bromance. You have my sympathies.

 

Nick came to around the time that Sam was guiding him by the shoulders back to bed, big warm hands keeping him on the ground- and why on earth had they been in the living room? There was only the faintest hint of memories that came to him, drinking whiskey, drinking cough syrup. Was that today? He thought he’d been sleeping, but Sam’s face was close to his, leaning over his shoulder, concerned little pinch between his eyebrows and it was very possible that Nick had walked himself out here all on his own. He used to do this when he was young and sick too. It couldn’t really be considered sleepwalking because he was at least half awake- but at the same time a high enough fever could get him out of bed on all sorts of troubling adventures that he would later have no recollection of. This must be one of those adventure.

He let Sam push him back into bed, fretting over him through worried little touches and gentle words. Nick didn’t even remember falling back asleep. He just  woke sometime later, with a start, to being jostled. His hands were pinned to his chest by the person leaning over him, keeping him flat on his back with no way to take a swing. And if it had been Sam bearing him down onto the bed the idea of violence never would have even crossed his mind. But it wasn’t Sam holding his hands and arms down with all his body weight and it wasn’t Sam’s nose just brushing his, or even Sam’s eyes looking into his from only inches away.

“Gabriel?”

“Hey, Luci. God, you sound _awful_.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile that was too close to actually see.

Nick refused to struggle because it would be seen as a sign of weakness and would only make this worse for him. “I’m sick.”

“Eww.” Gabriel  grunted, but even still he didn’t pull back even far enough to keep from sharing air. “How’d you manage that?”

“Sam…” Nick looked from side to side as much as he could, wondering where his friend had gone off to. “He was sick and I’ve been taking care of him.”

“You don’t have to share _everything_ when you’re dating someone. You do know that right?” He finally pulled back to an almost reasonable distance, giving up on whatever game he was playing because it wasn’t getting the reaction that he wanted. “You keep looking around- why are you looking around?”

Nick ground his teeth, feeling the little clicking sound more than hearing it.

Gabriel’s smile twisted into a grin. “Your lovely boy-toy is in the shower if that’s what you’re looking for.”

And just like that, Nick’s shoulders tightened up to match his jaw. It must have been a very specific expression he was wearing because Gabriel held his arms a little tighter, half kneeling on the bed to keep the weight on his big brother.

“Relax, Luc. I thought it was you in the shower when I let myself in the house- and I learned my lesson from last time I tried to come join you with all kinds of good intentions and was only met with violence. So I came in here to wait for you and _surprise_. Here you are… can we go peek at him?”

“No.”

“But you’re allowed to. You have full rights and privileges to that naked Adonis in there. Come on. I’ll only peek around your shoulder. I’ll be hiding behind you. He doesn’t need to know.”

“No.” Nick repeated, flexing his arms slightly, debating if he could get enough leverage to throw his brother off. And maybe his fever had broken and his head was finally clearing up, but he still felt about as weak as a kitten.

“You sound like a frog.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, pointed little tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he thought himself through a different plan for the afternoon. “And you’re pissyer than normal. You know what will make you feel better?”

“You leaving. Don’t you have work or something?”

“Pfft.” He made an annoyed sound at the mere suggestion. “Come on, my big ‘ol typhoid Mary. I will build you a cuddle fort.”

Nick’s jaw started hurting, he was clenching so hard. “No.” And how many times could he say it? “I don’t need a fort.”

“You’re sick. You don’t know what you need.” And that was about the whole of their argument.

Not that Nick was done with it- but he didn’t have much choice because his brother was leaving and it’s near impossible to have a fight with someone who is fleeing from you.

“God damn it, Gabriel!” It hurt so bad to raise his voice like that, but he had to protest somehow because his brother was taking all the bedding with him, big armful of blankets almost tripping him as he ran from the room. Left with little to no option, Nick pulled himself out of bed, stumbling blearily down the hall after Gabe who was now scooting chairs back from the table. “Stop it, you little fuck.” Nick had to hold the back of the couch for a moment, catching his breath. “Those are mine.”

He kept arguing in his winded voice, having a hard time getting enough air- and that seemed to only make it easier for his brother to ignore him as he turned the dining room table into a fairly lopsided and rather tiny fort.

“I’m not getting in there with you.” He stated firmly while watching his brother collect the couch cushions, holding them tightly to his chest.

“Yes you will. It’s good for you. Warm and toasty and comfy. You’ll be as right as rain in no time.”

And this was stupid. Everything about this was completely stupid. He hadn’t built forts with Gabe since they were both still in grade school. Gabriel probably hadn’t grown much taller since then, but Nick was over six foot and there was no way in hell that he was going to be able to get down there unless he got on his hands and knees.

Which was exactly what ended up happening a few minutes later. For whatever reason, despite his better intentions, he found himself crawling down under the table to settle beside his brother in the dark warmth that felt so very familiar.  He had to lean back on his elbows to keep from smacking his head, something that he learned the hard way during his first few seconds in the fort. And his legs stuck out the long way, toes free to the fresh air outside, and frankly a little cold.

“Oh my god. You move like an old man. I can hear your joints creaking.” Gabe teased as he leaned in against his big brother. “You getting arthritis?”

“No. I’m just not meant to bend this way.” He grumped as he tried to find a way to settle the table leg along the length of his spine for support- but he was too heavy and the whole fort shifted southward with a scrape of wood on linoleum and Nick just gave up.

A little more situating of the cushions and soon everything was warm and close and as comfortable as it had always been when they were kids and one of them had been sick. Inevitably, by proxy of sharing a bedroom, the other brother would end up getting the same sick and they would build a fort over their bunk beds and huddle together on the bottom bunk. That was roughly a million years ago, but oddly… it felt just the same.

Gabriel looped his arms around Nick’s shoulders in a loose hug. “So… lover boy’s in the shower… you two been you know… having some morning sex, if you catch my drift.”

Nick rolled his eyes and tried to shrug his brother off. “Not the kind of talk usually used in a blanket fort.”

“Oh come on. You were sending me those racy pictures last night and then you just cut me off. I’ve been thinking about it them all morning.”

“First off, your wife’s going to be pissed if you keep this whole gay-curious thing up much longer. And second, they weren’t racy. There was practically no skin showing.”

“Lucy, the guy was between your legs and you were undressing him. It was practically porn. If you don’t want me objectifying your hot boyfriend, stop shoving him in my face. Or keep it up, I really don’t mind, because hot-fucking-damn, I want to ride that ride.”

 _Me too._ Nick though almost wistfully before shaking the idea off. Gabriel was the whole reason he was in this stupid (non)relationship in the first place. He’d facilitated their meeting and therefore he was also the reason that it was all going to crash and burn in about a month. The last thing that Nick needed was more encouragement in the creation of his erotic friend-fictions. He didn’t need any helpful verbiage or mental images. He was doing fine on his own, thanks just the same.

“At least tell me how the rest of last night went. You sound like you tried to eat a bowl of glass and your kind of sweaty warm- so I’m guessing you guys took it slow and easy. Maybe just a little fooling around.”

“We are still in a fort.”

“Come on, Luci. I only get to have sex with the same stunningly beautiful woman every night -and sometimes after lunch. I don’t get to have wet and wild adventures like you do. I need to live out all my heterosexual fantasies through this incredibly hot thing you have going for yourself.”

“Trade?”

“Sure?” Gabriel half asked, half agreed. “I went to go visit Rehka last week while she was working the night shift, and you know how they don’t do autopsy in the middle of the night, so the room is empty and they’ve got that big, clean table with a drain and everything-”

“Gabriel, no. Uhg.” Nick pushed his brother off, because no. no. no. no. Usually he liked Gabe’s stories, but he could easily tell that this one was headed to a bad place. “I just want you to text me back that picture from last night.”

It got a bit quiet in their fort, soft breaths and Nick was almost certain that he could hear himself sweating.

“He made you delete it didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And you want it back now?”

“… yes.” Nick’s voice was a bit small, but his throat hurt and that was as good of an excuse as he was going to get for that one.

Gabriel just laughed while he took his phone out and with a few swipes of his finger he sent a copy of the picture back to its original owner. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble.” He practically sang.

“Worth it.”

“No argument here.” He put his phone back in his jacket pocket and slipped an arm back around his big brother’s shoulders. “So, tell me all the dirty details.”

 Story time? Did that mean it was story time? Because Nick had been sitting on a good one for awhile now.  “Hnn. It’s actually been a few days since we last had a tumble.”

Quiet snickering from Gabriel at the use of the word _tumble_.

“I was a bit sore, then we were both sick. Most we’ve had all week was that little fooling around last night.”

And Gabriel bought the bait, because Nick had been pushing his brothers buttons for years and knew exactly how to play this.

“ _Sore_?” He said it like he’d never heard the word. “Why would you be sore?” Then he started laughing like a madman. “Oh, he _didn’t_. You didn’t!”

Nick just smiled into the darkness. He loved that all he had to do was plant the seeds and Gabe would just carry himself away. Making the best and worst assumptions possible.

“How was it? It had to hurt, right? I mean, he’s a big guy.”

“Yeah he is.” Nick said in the most suggestive way he knew how and that _really_ got Gabriel going.  And this was precisely why people didn’t like to spend time with the two of them. Sometimes they were throwing around innuendos, other times insults, and every now and then they still threw punches.  They only knew how to make each other worse.

“TELL.ME.” Gabe pleaded, throttling Nick’s shoulders like he meant to shake every juicy detail out of his brother.  “Are we talking chick flick kind of sex? Were there candles and did you put on that mixtape I made for you guys? Or are we talking hardcore gay porn- face down, ass up, because that’s the way you like to-”

“Somewhere in between?” He suggested quietly. In his mind Nick knew exactly how it went, and that was one of the biggest problems he had going for himself right then, because it was currently his very _favorite_ daydream.  A bit too specific in places. But he’d already worked out the things that Sam would growl into his throat, the places on his hips where Sam’s capable hands would leave pale bruises, how they would move against one another almost hesitant at first until they found a spine arching rhythm that they wouldn’t stand a chance at maintaining… just you know… little details that made the whole scenario kind of perfect. Like sprinkles on a cookie.

And Nick fucking loved sprinkles.

“He was still pretty pissed at the whole me ‘fooling around with Georgia’ thing. There was a bit of yelling and that lead to some pushing and then he got me pinned against the wall…” That train of thought ran right away with Nick. Thinking it and saying it out loud were apparently two different things and he could feel himself getting warmer. A bit in his cheeks and a bit down low in his gut.

“Angry sex? You lucky son of a bitch. I haven’t pissed Rehka off enough in _years_ to get angry sex.” Gabriel had let go at some point, because you don’t hug your brother while you two talk about the frequency or intensity of your sex lives. “How was your first trip to pound-town?”

That snapped Nick right back to the reality of the blanket fort. Pound-town? Good god. Gabriel knew how to turn a phrase. “It fucking hurt. How do you think it went?”

“You say it, but I’m not buying. He gave it to you and you _liked_ it.”

“Not sayin’ I didn’t. Just saying my body wasn’t ready.”

Gabriel was almost giggling, squirming with enthusiasm. “Would you do it again?”

“In a fucking hot second.” He felt fiercely certain about this fact.

“You do know that we have an openly gay brother who is still not as gay as you are right now.”

“Cas isn’t _openly_ gay.”

“Kid’s never even kissed a girl.”

“He’s never kissed a boy either.” Nick pointed out, not entirely sure how this conversation suddenly got them here, but he was good to roll along with it. “He’s just this little repressed… turtle.”

“… turtle?” Gabriel snorted. “Luci, you’re still pretty sick, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” He sighed, realizing that he’d lost that little insult trade pretty badly.

“You know what’s gunna’ make you feel better, my big grumpy bear?”

Nick took a slow, hard breath, kind of choking on it with his weak lungs.

Right on cue, Gabriel started singing some bouncy asinine song about the moon getting drunk and going to the beach. Elbowing his big brother every few lines, trying to coax him into joining.

“No.” Nick said sternly, because he had to put his foot down somewhere. It was easy enough to sound angry while smiling in the darkness where no one could see it. But he could only fight the momentum of insanity for so long and he found himself searching to remember the words so that he could join in.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really wasn't joking when I said I had a stockpile of these. Have another one, one that's like 3 times longer than all the other chapters have been for this 'baby' story so far.   
> did you know that I've written over 300 pages of samifer fluff and nonsense this year so far?
> 
> I need to get out of my house more often. I swear I only leave my computer (and my roomcave) when I've got to go to work.   
> Girl needs to get herself some hobbies.  
> And sleep.  
> My best talent is staying up way too late.

 

Thunder fell on their fort, loud banging from above.

“Can I get you kids anything?” Sam asked from the wrong side of half a dozen blankets.

Gabriel grew silent all at once, shifting around awkwardly and Nick couldn’t help but grin now because his brother was embarrassed at having been caught. Whether it was being caught singing, or being caught actually being nice for once, it was hard to tell.

“I forgot he was still here.” Gabriel whispered into his shoulder.

“Good job, jack ass.” Nick whispered back.

Sam tapped at their ceiling. “Anything at all?”

“Cake?” Gabe questioned slowly, coming back to himself and finding his footing easy enough.

“We don’t have cake.” The booming voice from above informed them before tacking on a “Nick is sick and sick people don’t get cake.” Which was just unnecessary and frankly kind of mean.

 “That’s fucking prejudice.” He pointed out sullenly.

Gabriel jabbed Nick in the ribs. “Agreed.”

“We don’t have any cake.” Sam sounded the words out slowly, mildly annoyed.

His brother grumbled and breathed hot little puffs of air against Nick’s shoulder, thinking for too long before answering. “Juice.”

Ah, drink orders. Nick could handle this. “Bourbon.”

“Sure.” Sam answered so easily.

Nick bounced in place, in far too good of a mood because he hadn’t had a right proper drink in almost a week and he was starting to feel it. His blood alcohol levels dangerously low. But it was two orange juices that were passed under the table with a glare of sunlight that was almost blinding. He would have been more disappointed if he weren’t so thirsty. He drank his juice and was confused as to how, or when, or why Gabriel managed to talk Sam into joining them.

However, Nick wasn’t complaining. Sam was climbing in beside him, still slightly damp from his shower. He smelled real nice. And yeah, the fever had broken though Nick was definitely not back to firing on all cylinders yet- but who needed sanity though when he had Sam sitting oh so close… and a blanket fort. It’s not like he was going to point out that Gabe was right, that this is actually just what he wanted. He would enjoy it in contented silence.

Sam was kind of whispering against his ear, little questions that didn’t need answers and Nick was just agreeing to everything because he didn’t have it in him to do otherwise. It probably had something to do with the heat and close confines.

Again, not complaining.

If only his brother wasn’t in here with them…

“You’re not a doctor.” Gabriel was pointing out to Sam for some reason. “You don’t know how these things work.”

“Neither are you.” Nick did his best to defend his Sam from such broad and unnecessary accusations.

And he could almost  _hear_  Gabriel’s eye roll. “My wife is. Which makes me practically half-doctor. And it always worked when we were kids. So  _mneh_.”

If he could see a single damn thing he would have grabbed Gabe’s tongue that he knew was being stuck out at him. Missed opportunities.

Without warning, Sam brushed against his side and it was more than enough encouragement. Nick leaned back, resting his head against that offered shoulder. The kid was whispering once more- perhaps just using his inside voice. All Nick knew was that he was agreeing again. Yes, whatever Sam wanted, as long as he was using that low, rough voice that he’d acquired a few days back.

“And why did you let him drag you under the table?”

Gabriel interrupted before Nick could manage to try and figure out the answer to that one. “I’m very persuasive when I want to be.” Which was fair enough.

“He lured me out here.” Nick clarified. “He stole all my blankets and ran like the little bitch that he is.”

Gabe grabbed at his arm. Tugging and being just as obnoxious as he could be. “Aw, Luci, you always say the sweetest things. Isn’t he sweet, Sam?”

“Not particularly.” Sam said real slow and kind of apologetically.

If the kid didn’t sound so guilty Nick might have managed to be offended, instead he found himself fighting down a laugh. Many things he was, but sweet? Nope. He made a point to never be sweet.

 “His ass certainly is.” Gabriel found a way to sound so very appreciative, and Nick went from amused to kind of flattered, to just a bit uncomfortable as Gabriel just kept talking. It only made some vague kind of sense, words running together and… was Gabriel talking about the highschool swim team?

Why?

Why is  _this_  what they were talking about?

No one needed to be reminded about the swim team.

No one new needed to be informed about the swim team either.

Luckily Gabriel seemed to be talking circles around himself and his tirade went south. Suddenly he was telling the story about how he and his wife had started experimenting with anal sex, which was actually not as unexpected as it could have been (in Nick’s opinion) but it seemed to do a fairly impressive job of stunning Sam into an uneasy silence.

And silence was bad. Silence gave Gabe even more of an opportunity to say the wrong sorts of things.

“Nick said it hurt, but-”

“Isn’t your lunch break almost over, Gabe?” He quickly interrupted, because Sam had specifically asked to not be told about any of these naked kinds of adventures that they weren’t really having. For good reason.  If last night was any indication, Sam  _really, really_  didn’t want any kind of reminder or indication towards their pretend sex life.

“You were too vague.” Gabriel huffed. “I want to know how it felt to get you on your back and Sam here’s the only man who’s done it. Who better to ask?”

And if any of what Nick had told his brother was real, then yes, Sam would be the man to ask.

“Leave him alone, Gabe.”  He kneed his brother a little more roughly than necessary. “Sam’s a bit shy when it comes to this stuff- and he thinks you’re a creep.”

“Oh, he does not. What a mean thing to say, Luci.”

Nick had no intention of pulling his shots. “He calls you the ‘scary one’.”

“Really?” Gabe managed to sound almost excited. Over the years he’d been the short one, the loud one, the smart one, the married one, the one with the long hair, and a slew of other things- but scary?

It was enough to distract him from the whole ‘what’s it like to screw my brother’ thing that he was doing.

“I’m the scary one?  _Scary_? I don’t even have a criminal record like some other people I could mention. I’m as harmless as a baby bunny. The worst thing I do is sing a little too loud when I’m drunk.”

“That is literally the only good thing that you do.”

“You- you  _like_  my singing?”

“Your singing sounds like someone drowning a sack of cats- but at least your mouth is occupied so no one has to listen to your usual jackassery.”

“ _Jackassery_? This is coming from the man who called our Cas a repressed turtle. You illiterate ass hat. I have an underappreciated gift for language. I’m eloquent and charming as fuck.”

“Well, if nothing else you make me come off as less of a creep by comparison, so I guess I appreciate that.”

“You  _appreciate_? You hear that god? He appreciates me. Well I can die happy how, can’t I? Lucifer appreciates me.”

Nick gave his brother such a pinch and they growled and grumbled and fought with their words and sharp punctuations of knees and elbows just like they had since the first day they met. There would be bruises later. Fraternal bruising. It was one of the best kinds of bruising to be had.

“Uncle. Uncle.” Gabriel surrendered first, edging away from his brother, undoubtedly nursing a fairly exquisite Indian burn at this point. “For someone half dead you sure are mean.”

“For someone so small you sure are a huge pain in my ass.”

“Oh, and you know _all_ about huge pains in asses, don’t you?”

“More than you ever will.” And that was meant to sound like more of a taunt but it just came out tired and strange.

“You just keep telling yourself that. I’ve got to get back to work anyways.”

“Good.”

“Good.” Gabe repeated with a little snicker before leaning into the man pile and planting a fairly moist kiss on Nick’s cheek before whispering “take one for me, ok? Maybe record it?”

“Fuck no.”

“Please? I might be able to arrange a phone call from Las Vegas all the way out here to you… call it an even trade?”

It was only fair that Gabe knew how to push Nicks buttons right back. They’d known each other for far too long. “I’ll take the request under consideration.”

“Good man.” Gabriel patted his cheek, though it was closer to a slap than anything else, and then he turned and fled from the fort before any retaliation could come his way.

Sam practically hissed at the intrusion of sunlight. “Where’s he going?”

“He’s got to get back to work. His lunch break is-“ something very wet ran up the exposed underside of his foot and he yelped in a decidedly unmasculine way. “Oh god! What the hell, Gabe? Did you just lick my foot?”

“Eww, no. I don’t want to get sick.” Gabriel whined, despite the fact that he had kissed his brother less than a minute ago. “It was just the condensation from my glass.”

He pulled his feet in and rubbed at the cold that had immediately sunk into his tender skin. There was a steady, quiet stream of profanity coming from his mouth, but Gabriel cut him off.

“You’re such big baby. It’s only water.” He said while slapping at the table top to help accent the words. “I’ll swing back by after work.”

Either a threat or an offer.

Nick would pass on both accounts. “Please don’t.” He didn’t think that he could handle another visit today. The long hour that he’d spent with Gabriel had all but exhausted him.

But Sam, bless him, he leaned his head against Nick’s and said the most lovely thing. “It’s alright, Gabriel. I’ll be here with him.”

Unfortunately the man outside the fort was having none of it. “You got him sick in the first place. And I like you kid, but you suck at taking care of him.”

Which was practically blasphemy as far as Nick was concerned. He took a wild guess as to where his brother was standing and kicked at him though the blanket wall, feeling the satisfying solidity of bone.

“I’m fine.” He told the world outside. “ _He’s_  fine. We’re  _fine_. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“You will call me  _tonight-_  or I  can come by after work and we can play doctor.” He made it sound like an absolutely terrifying prospect. A retaliation for kicking him. “I will give you such a checkup. You won’t be able to sit for a week.” And he’d do it. He really would. With a smile on his pointy little face.

“I’ll call you tonight.” Nick promised.

Which earned him a fairly sassy sounding ‘mhmm’ and Gabriel let himself out.

Nick practically deflated, putting all his weight against Sam and just closing his eyes. Somewhere deep inside he might actually love Gabriel- but if he did it was deep, deep down.

“Sometimes I have these really elaborate fantasies of my brother going on one of his vacations and just never coming back.”  He admitted without a hint of shame.

Sam laughed at that. “I won’t play devil’s advocate for him and tell you that’s not nice… because I kind of wish the same thing.”

“That’s one of the reasons I like you.” Nick admitted as he stretched himself out, filling up his half of the fort with ease.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“But all the blankets are here.” He pointed out as he finally found his comfy with his legs thrown over Sam’s lap. “And it’s warm.”  _And you’re here_. There didn’t really need to be any reason other than that.

Maybe it was good enough for Sam too, because in the blind darkness, Nick could feel his friend settling, stretching out as well. A slash of light found its way inside and blinking wildly into the bright pain of it, Nick watched the other man laying down, sticking his head out from beneath the fort, taking a pillow with him. Then the dark returned, with the addition of a hazy golden halo around Sam’s chest where the blankets were no longer laying flat.

He was content to just be at peace. To rest and be touching Sam in any way that was currently acceptable. He could feel himself becoming one with the warmth of the fort, his eyes closing, his spine settling into the cushions he was laying on.

“So…” Sam started almost hesitantly, like he didn’t know if he should disturb the sounds of their silence. “I got to have my ‘one sixteenth of the time’ time?”

It positively tickled Nick that the guy remembered their agreement to the ratio of toppings and bottomings. “Yeah. You got your one time on top.” He was happy to make it simple and leave the whole story at that. Sam didn’t need a play by play of the event. He didn’t want to know about all the messy, indelicate details and that was for the best.

“When did I manage that?”

Or maybe he did…

It was only natural to be curious...?

Telling Gabriel these things was kind of normal and easy, telling _Sam_ was another story and Nick kind of struggled through it, grateful that they were separated and his friend couldn’t bear witness to the incredibly incriminating blush that he felt crawling over his whole body as he recounted their night together with was as memorably hot as it was fake.

As it turned out, Sam didn’t seem all that bothered by the rumor that he’d pinned Nick down and done some very bad and very good things to him. He actually asked if Nick was alright.

Which was either sweet or funny. It was hard to tell. “Aw, are you worried about all those bruises that you didn’t actually give me?”

Sam just grunted in a noncommittal way and moved his legs beneath Nick’s.

He was worried.

He didn’t need to say it. The evidence had been in his voice.

Sweet kid that he was.

If Nick didn't know that the answer would be a resounding  _no_  , he would just ask his friend to run away with him at this point.

He opted to settle for more teasing instead, because as long as he kept his lips to himself, he knew where they stood and he didn't have to worry about any pride demolishing reactions. No need for a dramatic reenactment of last night. It hadn't gone too well after all.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah, Nick?” He asked hesitantly.

“You ever made out in a blanket fort?”

And Sam was laughing again, seemingly only too happy for the teasing. 

They joked around a bit and eventually Sam put up a huff like he was supposed to, all that erotic subtext finally taking its toll. It meant that Nick won. Not sure what he won, but whatever it was was all his.

Through some mild negotiating the prize became Sam reading a bedtime story, just something that he pulled from one of the stockpiles of literature that had been discovered beside the table. Almost reluctantly, Sam read. Nothing special in his voice or the rhythm in which he spoke. It was obvious he wasn’t used to reading out loud. Not that he was stumbling over his words or anything like that, he just didn’t put as much emotion into the story as it deserved.

Two chapters in and he paused, leaving the main character stranded on a long stretch of grey beach. “I… I think that I’m missing something.”

“It’ss the second book in the series.” Nick explained sleepily.

“Well, where’s the first one?”

“It’s around here somewhere, but I’ve already read it.” He’d read this one too- but it was his favorite and he was enjoying himself.

“Well I haven’t and I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You’re a smart kid.  You’ll figure it out.”

And Nick had no idea if Sam actually did figure it out, because he fell asleep to the sounds of his friend reading. Soft rise and fall of his voice better than a lullaby.

It was the same rough voice that woke him as Sam was leaving in a confusing jumble of long legs and flickers of sunlight. Nick was in no way interested in leaving the warm confines of his fort, but then he heard Sam getting the door, talking to his brother- and this meant that he was finally leaving.

Not ‘finally’ in a relieved sense of the word. It was with reluctance and more disappointment than was probably healthy to admit. It felt like an almost wasted week that they’d spent together. Mostly just sleeping and coughing alongside each other. Shared misery and a shared bed. Now that they were both on the road to recovery all Nick wanted was another day or two.

He would have to settle for saying goodbye instead.

He jimmied himself out of the fort, smacking his head, shoulder and hip on his way out in the most graceful of ways only to be struck by a wall of wintery air that felt positivity arctic against his sleep warm skin. He dismantled the southern wall of the fort, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders to hide his shivering from the steady gaze of the men beside the door who were both staring at him in an uncomfortable way.

“It’s fucking cold out here.” He told them, frowning because he shouldn’t have to explain himself just because the two of them didn’t respond to temperatures the same way that he did.

Dean was rosy cheeked and healthy, holding a large tupperware to his chest as he looked from Nick to the fort with a fairly judgmental weight to his eyes. Finally he seemed to make his decision on how to feel about this and he held out the container. “Soup.”

It was almost a peace offering and it would be positively mean to say no. Almost irresponsible. So he shuffled over on bare feet, wishing that he had carpets, cringing every time his toes kissed the cold floor tiles, and took that soup and set it on the counter. “Thanks.”

“You got sick taking care of Sammy. I owed you.”

Well, Nick wouldn’t say no to that either. However he did feel a swell of jealousy that he wasn’t allowed to use the name ‘Sammy’. That little taboo of nicknames only served to reiterate the ownership of that leggy, beautiful young man over there.

And that beautiful young man was smiling his beautiful young smile, which was just another reminder that Nick didn’t need right now.

“Let me go get my stuff.” Almost happy that he was going to be going home.

Gloomy feelings swam in Nick and he choked them down. He tried instead to make small talk with Dean, and it was as awkward as hell but they managed.

Nick pulled himself up onto the counter and let his legs swing while they talked about safe subjects that didn’t involve anyone having intentions towards anyone else’s little brother. Dean leaned against the wall like it was his very own and he smiled just as easily as Sam did so often- though it was a considerably more aggressive expression when he did it.

“Saw your car outside.”

Nick could have asked how Dean knew which one was his, but there was only one old Mustang in the parking lot. 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Almost as nice as mine.”

“Hey now.” He chuckled softly. “You don’t come into a man’s house and talk bad about his baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, man.” Dean’s hand came up for a moment in a sign of surrender. “She’s a fine piece of American ingenuity.  I’m just not big on the color red.”

“You prefer hearse black?” He wasn’t looking to insult Dean’s Impala, but it _was_ a rather somber color- and anyways, everyone knows that red cars go faster.

“It’s classy.” Dean huffed.

“Must get hotter than hell in the summer.”

“That she does.”

Nick remembered something that he still found fairly fascinating. “Sam told me he stole the car when he was a teenager, took a girl to the drive-ins. Became a _man_.”

Dean’s teeth flashed. “He did, and I would have killed him if he hadn’t had such a good time in there. Besides, he cleaned up the backseat afterwards. Apologized like hell, grinning the whole time. I was too proud of the son of a bitch to be mad.”

“See, that’s the age gap between you two talking. You get to be the proud big brother. Me and mine are all the same age. We weren’t proud. We were competing to see who could get laid first.”

“Who won?” Dean’s eyebrows had hitched just a bit, curious little expression.

“Surprisingly, Michael. Beat me by two days. He was so damn proud of himself.”

“Really? Dude’s got a stick so far up his ass, didn’t think he ever got laid.”

That got Nick laughing. If his brother didn’t have a small heard of children to call his very own then he’d be inclined to believe the same thing.

Sam stumbled back into the room before Nick could add anything to Dean’s fair assessment of Michael. He almost smiled at them, kind of hesitating, eyes catching on Nick and his whole body shifted in an oddly anxious way.

“Hey… you ready to go?” Dean’s whole posture had changed in reaction to Sam’s return.

“Yeah.” He moved his bag of clothes from one arm to the next, not meeting his brother’s eye. Looking for all the world like a little kid trying to appear innocent. He half turned to Nick, but wouldn’t look at him either.  “Give me a call when you feel better, ok?”

Oh, like he was really just going to let Sam leave like that. With an audience? No way.

“Do I get a kiss goodbye?”

Sam’s eyes lit up even as he made a face. Protesting just for show. “No. You’re sick.”

“You can’t catch the same cold twice.” He was quick to point out.

And Sam considered. Complicated thoughts practically visible on his face. This went on for almost five whole seconds before he shrugged and came over, standing close enough to kick.

“I can’t catch the same cold twice.” He agreed.

Ah, it was nice to hear that easy surrender. “Thanks for taking care of me, darlin’.” Nick ran a big toe up the outside of Sam’s left leg in a way that might have been perceived as flirting, but honestly it was just the most obnoxious thing that he could think of doing that didn’t involve letting go of the blankets that he was still hugging tightly around himself.

“If I hadn’t stayed to keep an eye on you you would have overdosed on cough syrup days ago, you old lush.” Sam knew all the right things to say.

Just like Nick knew the right way to pout and look thoroughly insulted. “Yes, but I would have enjoyed it. You just don’t like letting me have any fun.”

He set his bag down on the counter beside Nick’s hip and the older man looked into it curiously, then back at Sam who had managed to inch himself that much closer.

“Oh, for the love of- hurry up and kiss the bastard goodbye so we can get going.” Dean yelled at them, obviously just as bothered by the whole show as they had hoped he would be.

Sam’s eyes were crinkling on the edges, holding back a smile, enjoying this as much as Nick was. “I’ve got to go, Luci. You behave yourself.”

Which was probably meant to piss him off, and even though hearing that nickname had lost so much of its sting over the years, he bristled because he knew that’s what Sam was looking for.

“Keep calling me that and I swear to god I will bite you so hard.”

Sam’s little smile went crooked, his whole face lighting up. “Goodbye, _Luci_.”

Fucking beautiful kid that he was.

And Nick tried to keep up that angry façade, but instead he just laughed, dry and a little painful as it tore at his raw throat. Luckily for him, that sharp noise was cut short as Sam gave him a grazing little kiss. Big ol’ handful of blankets used to pull Nick down the few inches needed for their lips to brush.

All in all, it was considerably less impressive than their Christmas kiss. Still just as good. Only in a different way.

It would have been a damn shame to just let it go like this. A little peck and _the_ _end_?  Nick’s arms were thoroughly trapped in the blanketly cocoon of his own creation- so it’s not like he had all that many options on what to do with himself. He couldn’t grab at Sam’s ass like last time. He settled for that bite that he’d threatened earlier.

Wide eyed and close enough to touch, their lips still kind of lingering against each other in the same way that you’d let your shoulder brush against your friend’s and you keep it there because you don’t have a reason not to.

He bit Sam easily, not as hard as he wanted to- and who said that he had poor self control- and found that the younger man was returning his grin. Nick struggled not to start laughing again, which turned out to not be much of a problem because just like last time, Sam decided to kiss him.

He did a better job of it though. His eyes closing as he removed any question of distance between them in an unexpectedly aggressive surge. It was all teeth and tongue, and Sam was holding him by the blanket so tightly it was all Nick could do to just close his eyes and give in.

He didn’t stop to wonder why this was happening. He was just kissing. Kissing Sam, and why the hell did it matter why? When you’re expecting life to keep on giving you lemons and it suddenly slaps you in the face with baklava, you don’t ask why. You just take a bite and hope that no one but you can hear you trying to stifle a moan.

And god, but he wished that his arms weren’t trapped so that he could get a hold of Sam. Sam who was growling softly as he licked his way into Nick’s mouth.

Never in his life had he not met that kind of gesture with something full bodied and carnal. Nick would have given just about anything to tangle a hand in Sam’s hair, to get an arm around his waist and pull their bodies tight together. He settled for getting a knee on either side of Sam’s hips, hooking his ankles around the man’s knees and just kissing him back as hard as he could for the few short breaths that he was allowed to.

By the time that Dean started obnoxiously clearing his throat Nick was half hard, his whole body just aching and _wanting_ and he knew he was a mess. A sexually frustrated, sexually confused mess. But Sam was pulling away (at least as much as he could with Nick’s knees trapping him) and grinning like a fool.

Nick didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that.

It looked like Sam had just told a punch line and was waiting eagerly to see if Nick got the joke.

Unfortunately, he did.

Dean was just right over there, panties in quiet the twist at having to stand witness to his kid brother trying to figure out what flavor Nick’s center was.

Dean was the punch line.

Finding new and creative ways to upset his brother with this fake relationship that he and Nick had made expressly for just such a purpose was the whole sum and total of this incredibly bad joke.

Problem was, Dean wasn’t the only one buying it anymore. It had been going on for too long now and Nick had started to believe it as well.

He knew that they were just friends He _knew_ it in ways that were frankly quite depressing and rather painful, like right now- but his body didn’t seem all that interested in that line of reasoning. Though to be fair, his body and he had rarely agreed on important matters since he met Sam two months ago.

Sam…

Sam’s smile had slipped, all that boyish charm vanishing. Just like that. He finally realized that something was wrong. Nick wasn’t laughing at the joke too.

Damn it. He was trying to. He’d always thought of himself as a rather convincing liar. Apparently Sam was an exception, because there was no way that Nick could look at him from this close and just pretend that he couldn’t still taste his friend on the back of his tongue, or that his body wasn’t hurting with the need to pull him back in and keep kissing him. All he managed was to school his face into something that he prayed came of somewhat neutral, and not lustful, or damning, or as self destructive as he felt.  Because Sam ran last night and fuck every good intention that Nick had ever had because the kid was going to run again.

Dean sighed from back at the door where he was waiting. He could only see Sam’s back from there. Broad shoulders and his mess of hair hiding most of Nick from view, which was for the best. Protective brother that he was, the man would almost definitely pick up that something had suddenly gone wrong. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Even he would be able to figure out that that kiss wasn’t supposed to happen like it did.

“Any time you two girls wanna’ stop playing tonsil hockey, I’d like to get some dinner.”

Sam’s eyes had gone a little too wide. Fractions of emotions being schooled from his face, only to be glimpsed in confusing little flickers that left Nick to suffocate beneath increasingly higher amounts of despair.

“I’ve gotta go.” Sam said carefully, looking for all the world like a rabbit caught in headlights.

He knew.

He had to know.

“That’s a good idea.”  Nick said carefully. Sam could go- he should go. Take some time to remember how to breathe like humans do. Take a bit more time to come to terms with the knowledge that his friend wanted in his pants. And when that panic subsided, Nick could apologize. He could explain that he hadn’t meant for it to happen. He didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not like he’d done it on purpose and he certainly wouldn’t push it on Sam. Then he could just cross his fingers and pray that his friend wouldn’t do the logical thing and break up this glorious faux relationship of theirs right then and there.

Sam was nodding too fast, almost like he could read Nick’s mind. Yeah. He needed to leave.

Problem was that Nick’s heels were still on the backs of his knees, still holding him in a loose circle. Hardest thing he’d had to do in years to let him go.

He stayed sitting on the counter for a few minutes after the Winchesters had left, staring at the door, willing the tightness in his gut to subside.

He lost that particular struggle and a hop from the counter and clumsy stagger later he was in the shower, forehead pressed to the tile as he rubbed himself off with quick, angry flicks of his wrist. _Everything about this is wrong_ , he thought to himself as he finished with a low groan, sinking to the bottom of the tub to sit beneath the stream of water.

As solutions went, it had been complete crap. He felt somewhat worse now actually, definitely a little dirtier. Half an hour later the water had gone cold and he wasn’t any closer to feeling ok with the things that he’d done today.

That’s alright though. He had another solution to his problems.

A failsafe cure all.

And if nothing else, an hour and most of a bottle of vodka later, things didn’t seem so bad. They didn’t seem like anything actually, and that was ok with him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honesty time?  
> I haven't even started on the next chapter of The Boy Who, other than in my head. 
> 
> There was some scary kitty drama in my house these past few weeks and very little sleep and very much worry did not help to built the most creative frame of mind for me. But my fat little kitty is better (though she's no longer fat and I can feel her little hip bones and it freaks me out) and I decided to stay up later than I should tonight and finish writing the few pages I had started before everything briefly went to hell.
> 
> Life is once again good.   
> It's cloudy out, a nice breeze is coming in my window, my little potato shaped kitty is sleeping next to me, somehow it got to be 2 in the am, and I really need to go to bed before I pass out on top of my laptop.  
> Goodnight.   
> And thanks for just being here and waiting so patiently while I wallow in my occasionally sad corner.   
> You guys are awesome.

“Nick!”

It wasn’t a question so much as a demand for attention, almost a yell, and far too close to his ear.  Nick stirred somewhere deep below the hazy layers of sleep and imported liquor. He knew that voice, he just couldn’t be bothered to give enough of a damn to remember who it belonged to at the moment.

“Nick, please wake up or I’m going to call an ambulance.” Now they were starting with the threats. And throttling- or maybe he was just rolling over. No. No, that couldn’t be it. There was definitely something very involuntarily about the motion.

He managed to begrudgingly pry an eye open even though it went against the desires of every raw nerve ending in his aching body. His youngest brother was kneeling on the floor beside him- and why were they on the floor?

This wasn’t right.

Sleeping on the floor was reserved for special occasions… like Christmas. Or June’s birthday.

The room spun around him and his stomach rolled. He had just enough presence of mind to take note of the  mixture of relief and tears made Castiel’s eyes inhumanly bright. And despite his best efforts, Nick couldn’t seem to focus, his brother sort of blurring on the edges. It was dizzying to look up at him and Nick closed his eye again, feeling almost sea sick despite the fact that he wasn’t moving.

“No. Nick, you _need_ to be awake.”

“Fuck off.” He thought he might have managed to slur. He didn't want to be awake. Not right now. Not for another day or two if he had any choice in the matter. But he didn't apparently because his brother was pulling him into an almost sitting position, roughly patting his cheeks, trying to keep him on this side of consciousness. Damn Castiel and his reckless first aid skills. Nick was not in need of keeping his airways clear. He could stay down there on the floor. Really, really.

“I’m calling an ambulance.” Castiel repeated the threat with more force this time- and Nick believed him. He really did.

“No.” He whined, doing his best to pull away from the uncomfortable embrace. Trying to return to the nice flat floor that had always been so kind to him. “I’m fine.” And he practically was, so it wasn’t as much of a lie as it must have sounded.

Being dragged towards the horribly loud and bright world of the living had been some kind of green light for his body to grant him one hell of a hangover. He might start puking in a bit, but it wasn’t emergency vehicle worthy. He would survive without the aid of professionals. Unfortunately.

“You’re _not_ fine.” Castiel’s hands were pretty much the only thing holding Nick up, cold and clumsy, but very, very firm. The little accountant had unusually strong hands. “How much did you have to drink?”

Now, to be fair this wasn’t the first time that Castiel had the opportunity to peel his big brother off the floor. And the two previous times ambulances were called, stomachs were pumped, hospital admittance forms were signed by next of kin- so maybe his concern was _slightly_ justified.

“Jus’ some vodka.” He promised, trying to ease some of that agitation, though not for the other man’s sake, just so that he could lay back down and close his eyes and feel all the bad that he’d done to himself tonight.

“The bottle is empty, Nick. How much is some?” Cas kept one strong arm around Nick, letting him slump forward enough to press his forehead into his knees in the customary position of shameless drunks everywhere, while he dug his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“I’m fine.” Nick repeated, doing his best to bat the phone from his brother’s hand and spare them both an unnecessary scene.

Castiel’s eyes were still swimming, worry and all kinds of pains that weren’t physical moving over his face so blatantly that even Nick couldn’t ignore them. So he didn’t. He pulled his kid brother into something that could have passed as a hug, mostly it was for support, and he tried to get the earth to stop moving beneath him.

“It’s not like last time.” He forced out from his torn throat.  A weak promise at best.

“You’re on the floor with an empty bottle and you weren’t answering your phone and you weren’t answering the door.” Castiel said back, though he chose not to use his inside voice, still loud and unsettled with the fear that came with finding someone you care about unconscious. “This is exactly like last time- and the time before that.”

“No. Last time I didn’t wake up until the hospital. I’m awake _now_.” He pushed his head into Castiel’s chest and felt his stomach clenching. “I’m breathing.”

“I thought you were doing better.” He wasn’t really listening. Too worried. Too caught up in the familiarity of the situation.

“I’m… I jus’ had a rough night ‘s all.”

“Nick, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

For the love of god.  

He hadn’t been drinking to oblivion- just enough to black out. There was a very small, but very significant difference.  If he’d gone and done something stupid like killing himself how would he apologize to Sam for kissing him, or more importantly, how would he find a way to ‘accidently ‘do it again?

“I’m fine.”  And he wasn’t. He knew that he wasn’t. But a hangover wasn’t even in the same zipcode of ‘not alright’ that his brother thought they’d come back to after so many years.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He put his head back down into the relative firmness of his brother’s chest.

“Are you going to throw up now?”

Nick debated how long he could keep fighting it down, but as he had come to be more aware of over the past few weeks, he was no longer in control of his body and the things that it wanted to do. Probably never actually was. “Yeah.” He finally admitted.

If it had been any other of his brothers, Nick would have been dropped back on the floor and left to suffer, but Castiel was a good kid. He helped Nick to the bathroom and patted his back in the comfortingly awkward way that he was oh so good at while his big brother tossed each and every one of his cookies.

“Should I tell Gabriel you’re ok?” He asked once Nick managed to rid himself of all that nice, expensive alcohol and any possibly remaining dignity.

“Jus’ don’t tell him I was puking.”

 Gabriel might actually drive his way back down here for that, finding it the perfect excuse to return. Nick had his suspicions that the only reason he was safe from the little terror right now was that the man had gone home after work and had asked Cas to come and check on him when Nick hadn’t called or answered his phone.  It was geographical inconvenience that got him the care of his only halfway decent brother.  Nick had never been more grateful that Castiel lived only a few blocks away.

Somewhere at his back he could hear the man making his purposeful phone call. Distant ringing. “Hello? -no, he’s fine. He was just sleeping- ok- yes- I will tell him- I will. Goodnight, Gabriel.” He hung up sighed softly, a usual reaction to dealing with Gabriel. “He says he knows you’re doing this to him on purpose and if you don’t start being nicer to him he will tell Sam about ‘the picture’.”

“Great.”

“I’m going to get you some water.” Castiel gave him one final, firm pat and got up, coming back a few seconds later with the promised hydration and a handful of little white pills.

“You are a gentleman and a scholar.” Nick mumbled as he took the offering, downing all the pain killers and water, tossing them back like a shot.

He managed to find the strength to hold his head up, looking at Castiel who was oh so much taller when he was the only one standing. And his sweet, almost naive brother just smiled hesitantly down at him. Probably anyone else would be asking questions at this point. Wanting to know why Nick had just about drowned himself in Vodka, or what was the picture that Sam not supposed to know about.

But not Castiel. Castiel seemed to be completely at peace now that he knew that Nick was going to be alright and tonight wasn’t just another halfassed suicide attempt.

For almost a whole minute Nick sat on the bathroom floor, watching his brother watching him and he tried, lord, but he tried not to think about the reason the back of his tongue was still slick with that bitter bile taste.

And luckily Nick had always been a champ at lying to himself.

“Would you like me to stay… or leave and turn out the lights?” Offered the most compassionate and understanding brother in creation.

“Stay.” Nick found himself saying without hesitation. It wasn’t so much that he wanted the company, he just really, really didn’t want to be left alone right now. He made bad choices when he was alone, and perhaps it was time that he came to terms with that.

It would have been better to accept it a few hours and a bottle of vodka earlier- but better late than never, right?

Castiel made tea.

Nick wasn’t big on tea. He actually didn’t remember even buying the little brightly colored box. Maybe it had come with the care package that came with Sam? It tasted awful but felt good on his throat so he wasn’t complaining too much.

After some firm convincing from Nick the blanket fort was eventually dismantled and they took up residence on the couch, all lights in the house other than the one down the hall were out and they sat in relative quiet and peace while Nick waited for the pills to kick in and the jack hammering in his skull to subside.

Half an hour later he felt marginally more human.

And right on cue- “You have a problem.” Castiel gently told the darkness.

Nick strangled his cup between his hands. He hadn’t asked his brother to stay because he was looking for a lecture. He wanted sympathy. Not an intervention.

“We all have our own unhealthy ways of managing stress and Dad wasn’t exactly the best example of healthy coping mechanisms.” Even in the poor lighting Castiel’s dubious expression was hard to miss. “But this… _drug_ addiction you have-”

“Alcohol isn’t a drug.” Nick bit off the words, sharp and angry. “It’s a poison.”

“If it’s a poison then why do you keep drinking it?”

“Because there are things inside of me that I need to kill.”

That shut Castiel up for a few minutes, which was good because Nick was a bit too horrified at what had just come out of him to say anything more.

So he drank his tea and debated if this was better or worse than the fact that he’d kissed Sam.

Sam.

He’d really kissed Sam. Oh god, but that mistake was as much of a tragedy as it was a triumph. It was a real shame that he ended up with an almost painful combination of liquor and vomit burning in his throat, slicking his teeth, instead of that sweet orange juice flavor that Sam’s had given him. It was very possible that Nick would not be able to drink orange juice form this point on without feeling a little hot and bothered.

Damn, but who had taught Sam to kiss like that? And who had told him it was alright to use such lethal force without due caution and circumspection. No regard as to what such a casual act might do to Nick.

Ruin him forever, that’s what it would do.

Castiel balanced his mug on a knee, so still and careful. “It must have been quite a night.”

“You have no idea.” He practically growled into his cup of earl grey.

 “Does this have to do with Sam?”

And Nick supposed that Castiel couldn’t always play the simple one. He noticed a lot more than he let on.

But everything had to do with Sam these days.

Just _everything_.

Every stupid, fucking, little thing.

And that excruciating little fact must have been plain on his face because Castiel suddenly looked far too sympathetic and understanding.

Nick wasn’t big on sharing. Never had been. He liked to keep to himself. But he’d had a doozy of a day and suddenly he found himself talking, running his mouth- and he was horrified but at the same time he couldn’t’ seem to stop, his thoughts as loud and uncontrollable as a runaway train.

 “Sam and I… God damn it, the only advice I’ve ever gotten about this whole stupid relationship was ‘don’t fuck it up’ and that’s the only thing that I’ve done since I met him.” Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system, and out of everyone he had ever know, his baby brother was the only one to just listen without casting an ounce of judgment.  Nick had already judged himself plenty over this right mess that he’d made. “I kissed him tonight, full on _kissed_ him. Right on the mouth. God, he breathed me in. I could _taste_ his heartbeat. It was practically a religious experience.”

“Please don’t blaspheme.” Castiel interjected in the least intrusive way possible.

Nick kept barreling forward, talking over his brother. “I want him, Cassy. I want him so bad it hurts.”

That actually felt good to say out loud.

“I think about him all the time. About his hands, and those dimples, and that stupid laugh of his, and that stupid mouth…” He found himself trailing off, getting a little lost with that last one. Fresh memories roiling too close to the surface.

It wasn’t fair that Sam’s mouth had fit so easily against his.

It wasn’t fair that Sam had fit so easily between his legs.

And Nick was suddenly grateful for the hall light at his back, because he knew it would cast his face in heavy enough shadows to hide the sudden warmth he felt creeping up his neck.

“Then it’s very lucky that you’re dating him.” Castiel obviously didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. “It must make that sort of… _fixation_ more convenient.”

He suffered a tight breath. How far down was he willing to fall? Nick needed help. He really did- but Castiel? The sweet little accountant wasn’t exactly the first place someone goes to for relationship advice.

He had no practical experience. What could he possibly say? _You should repress all emotions and physical attraction until they go away._ It had worked for Castiel for years. As far as any of them knew, their youngest brother had never dated anyone, much less engaged in any indelicate behavior.

“Unless…” Castiel held his breath for a moment. “Did you two have another fight?”

An idea was dawning on Nick, a way to help himself without losing two months worth of hard work. The words finding themselves easier than he expected. “It’s complicated.”


	11. and now for something completely diffrent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this falls somewhere near the beginning of everything else- like literally I don't think I could be more chronologically out of place.   
> Sometime just after Sam took his finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost through with the next chapter for 'The Boy Who' (yay!) now that my kitty is on the mend I am significantly less stressed and have actually been able to spend some time writing. It is my happy place ^_^
> 
> Now, true facts, I have a whole file on my computer of scrapped scenes from TBW and Rain in the Valley - things that just didn't work out with the flow of the stories or timing-wise, but I enjoyed to much to delete. There is always a hope that I can use the words elsewhere. So this afternoon I'm digging through that file, looking for a conversation that I thought I'd saved for later and I came across this thing.  
> It's from Sam's POV, but I still thought it was kind of cute, and I decided to share it with y'all, since we have gone yet another week without me getting an update together.
> 
> Better than nothing, right?

 

He took that last test and then he came home to an empty bed and slept for almost ten hours, waking to have dinner and drinks with Dean. After that he slept another eight hours and by the time he woke it was tomorrow. He had a quiet breakfast and almost felt like himself again.

Last night during dinner he had made the mistake of telling Dean where he was going for the weekend and with whom. Dean had responded with all kinds of less than subtle suggestions for what Nick inevitably was planning to do with Sam’s young and supple, unsuspecting body.

And if any of Dean’s suspicions were actually valid Sam would have had second thoughts about going.

Halfway into San Francisco, with Nick cheerfully speeding up and down frightfully angled hills, Sam started having doubts of a very different nature.

“I’m sure there are posted speed limits.”

“Oh, probably.” He rolled through a stop sign at the crest of one hill and calmly barreled down the next.

“You do know that this is terrifying, right?” It was like the worst rollercoaster ever made. Who in their right mind had decided that it was a good idea to build a whole city on this kind of terrain?

Nick glanced over at Sam. “You’ve never driven out here before?”

“I’ve… never actually been out here at all before.” He found himself clinging to the door handle like it might somehow save him.

They sped through a yellow light and Sam just closed his eyes, silently praying.

“Really? How long have you been in California and you’ve never managed to come to Frisco?”

“Four years.”

“Practically criminal. See, for me this is like coming home. When my mom shipped me out to California, this is where Dad was living. I went to school on the north side of the bay. We wore uniforms and everything.”

Sam peeked an eye open, trying to look at Nick and not at how Nick was driving. “I bet you were adorable.”

“I was. I had a tie and a jacket and everything. Just like a proper little rich kid should.”

“I can’t picture you in a tie.”

“You’d be surprised at how nice I clean up.” He said as he made a spectacularly illegal U-turn in the middle of the street to get a parking spot on the other side.

Sam sank into the embrace of his seatbelt and let out a long held breath, feeling safe for the first time in about an hour. “I’m so glad we didn’t take your bike.”

Nick’s hand found his leg, a quick pat a bit too north of his knee to be polite. “I just don’t feel safe taking the hills on my bike.”

“Oh, yeah. I can see how this was so much better.”

“You couldn’t see anything. You had your eyes closed the whole time, coward.”

“If death was going to take me, I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pushed Nick’s hand off his leg and unbuckled his seatbelt. “How likely is it that I can talk you into letting me drive us back home later so we increase our chances of surviving?”

The car’s steering wheel got a slow, sensual caress. “You don’t ask to drive another man’s car.”

Sam just rolled his eyes and crawled out. He looked up and down the street, surprised to see that there were not hotels in sight. “Nick, what are we-“ He turned to see Nick digging in the trunk of what was incidentally a stunning piece of craftsmanship that even Sam could appreciate. She was all candy apple red with a sleek black stripe down each side and now that he was safely on the outside of it he found that he liked it almost as much as the Impala. The ascetics of the classic car were perfection even if her owner was certainly a bit unsound.

Nick closed the trunk, holding aloft a violin case. “We’re dropping off my other love to get fixed.”

“Until I see it with my own eyes I don’t believe that there’s actually an instrument in there.” He joined Nick on the sidewalk. “And if there is a violin and you play it anything like how you drive I think I know how it got broke.”

“Flatterer.” Nick gently crashed into him, fingers of his free hand brushing Sam’s.

Sam didn’t bother slapping at Nick or telling him off. There wasn’t anyone within eighty miles of them that they needed to keep up appearances for, but at the same time the closeness felt more normal than anything else. It would have felt downright wrong to not be constantly brushing against each other like two lovesick teenagers.

They stopped in the little shop on the corner and Sam was honestly surprised to see a real violin produced from the black case. It was prettier than the car, and this was an assessment made by a man that had little to no knowledge of automobiles or instruments.

He watched a very reluctant Nick handing it over to a clerk who made promises of having the thing fixed by Sunday morning.

The bounce was gone from his step as they left the shop.

“You going to be ok?”

“I still feel so bad for breaking it. It’ll be nice to see it back in once piece.”

They kept going past the car, and Sam didn’t question it because his heart wasn’t ready for another ride.

“How do you break a violin?”

“Very carefully.” He said without any clarity whatsoever.

They got lunch in China Town, because Nick insisted that he knew the best dim sum place and it would be a sin for Sam to not eat there since this might be his only trip to the bay. The food was as amazing as promised and it was a shame when the meal ended because it meant that they had to get back into the car. Luckily the drive to the hotel was short- because Sam couldn’t handle too many more than those hills.

In part he had expected some kind of dive of a motel, the sort of place that he and Dean had stayed in on their few road trips.  The only similarities that Sam saw between this place and all those little hole in the walls was that there were two beds.

Two beds.

In the back of his mind Sam had been readying himself for some kind of shenanigans. Waiting for the bottom to drop out of this whole deal.  Not today.

Two beds.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another delightfully pointless chapter, but again, these are just little bits and pieces that don't really affect the overall. I just have some deep feelings for brotherly bonding.  
> Expect a few more Nick chapters over here before the next BIG chapter in TBW. I have to admit that I'm reluctant to end it, and I don't have much more left to write, and I'm planning a bit of a fanfiction hiatus once it's done to give me time to work on 'other projects'... or whatever that means.  
> I don't want to go.  
> We can just drag this out indefinitely, right?  
> I can put off those last 2 chapters for a few months...  
> This is my happy place.  
> You guys are my happy place.  
> Don't make me go out into the real world.

Castiel nudged the violin case over the cushions towards his big brother. He’d known that it had been hidden beneath the couch- but he’d lived here in this apartment with Nick for four years while he’d been going to college. He knew all Nick’s little hidey holes, his habits, his temperaments.

“Sam told me that you still play.”

“I tell you that I completely screwed the pooch, went and fell for a straight boy- which I remember you telling me when you were younger is the absolute worst possible thing in the world that anyone can do- and you want me to play you a concerto?”

“It always used to make you feel better.” Over anxious child that he could still be at times. “Like a tattooed, Sherlock.”

Nick looked at the case, then at his brother, then at the ceiling. He was hung over, his head was throbbing, his stomach threatening to toss the bitter tea that he’d been trying so hard to keep down, his fingertips numb.

Castiel quietly popped the clasps on the case and edged it close enough that it bumped into Nick’s leg.

“Really? You don’t want to tell me what an idiot I am, or give me horrible advice?”

“When you feel better.” His little brother promised. “You won’t listen to anything I tell you right now anyways.”

“I’m not going to feel better about this.”

“Then at least play to distract me from saying something that will only make you mad.”

“Go ahead and just say it, I won’t get mad at you.” Nick was already braced for it, for whatever Castiel needed to tell him.

“I know that I’m on the short list of people that you won’t punch in the face, but you’ll still get mad.”

It was a very, very short list- but Cassy was just about at the top of it. So Nick opened the case and gently hefted his violin, trying not to pay attention to his brother’s anticipatory wiggle on the far end of the couch.

He took his time tuning up, slow and careful, testing to see if the noise was going to make his headache any worse. If it counted for anything at this point, the aspirin that his brother had supplied seemed to be taking hold and the general pains of his body seemed to be holding steady.

The song he played was slow and careful; he’d only just started figuring out how to play it a few weeks back. And it wasn’t exactly the type of music that typically readily has violin sheet music for. He wished, he wished so hard, that playing didn’t make him feel a bit better.

Castiel was an ideal audience, he sat so still and quiet and once the song found its end he clapped encouragingly. “I was hoping for some Verdi, but that was just as lovely.”

Nick found himself smiling and he hid it by playing with his bow. “It was clumsy, and it still needs a lot of work. But thank you.”

“Is… there any reason you’ve started teaching yourself a David Bowie song? I thought you didn’t like him.”

Did he have to actually answer that?

“Because the one time I played for Sam he asked if I knew any Bowie… he told me he liked _Life on Mars_ … so I figured out how to play it.” There was possibly no less incriminating answer that he could give. But there also wasn’t a more honest answer either. He tucked away his violin, too embarrassed to play another song.

Castiel took the closed case from him, hiding it back beneath the couch, then taking both their mugs to the kitchen and rinsing them out.

“Well, I’ve had a big day.” He dragged himself to his feet and looked longingly down the hall towards his bed, which inevitably would be more comfortable than the floor had been.

“Do you not want to talk about it then?”

“I never did.” He promised. “I just needed to vent.”

“You told me that you and Sam are- what did you call it?”

“Friends with benefits.” He knew that bit of a lie was going to complicate things the moment that he told his brother. It was literally the only thing that he and Sam weren’t at this point. That made it a positively dirty, dirty lie. He hated lying to Castiel. Normal people were bastards. His youngest brother was not normal people, and for whatever stupid reason Nick had always felt a need to try and keep him safe.

“Friends with… _benefits_.” He looked positively unamused by that particular title. “And that you have _romantic_ interests in him-”

“Oh my god, Cassy. That is not what I said.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“You didn’t have to. It’s obvious.” Castiel kept a notable distance, lingering in the kitchen despite there being nothing for him to do in there. “We’ve all known since Christmas.”

_Since Christmas?_

No. That couldn’t be right.

“I’m going to bed.” It had been a few hours since he’d completely botched a perfectly good plan. It was good to know that he could keep it going indefinitely. “Let yourself out.”

Despite the fact that Castiel had keys, he didn’t leave and lock the door. He just trailed after Nick. “I don’t think that you should be left alone right now.”

“I’m fine.” He fell into bed, face first, just wanting today to be done. Playing his violin had made him feel marginally better, but only for a handful of minutes- because it was just music and didn’t have any special ability to erase the fact that he’d moaned when Sam kissed him, or the horror that such an act had caused.

He debated the merits of looking for another drink but he wasn’t sure if his liver could handle any more punishment tonight. Well, that and Castiel had managed to follow him all the way to this end of the house and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“Go home, Cassy.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then at least come lay down. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you just sitting there being a creep.”

“I won’t sleep in your bed with you. You’re sick and I don’t want to catch it. Also, we are not teenagers anymore. It would be strange.”

“Then fucking take the couch. Or go _home_. I’m an adult and don’t need a babysitter.” It wasn’t his brother’s fault that he was in such a terrible mood, and no, it wasn’t fair to take it out on Cas either, but his baby brother was a convenient target in this moment- and Nick was all about taking advantage of the moment.  

“You may be an _adult_ but you certainly aren’t acting like it.”

Nick rolled over, hugging his pillow to his head.

“I don’t see how asking him for a real relationship would be such a bad thing. He seems like a really nice boy and he makes you happy… most of the time. He’s also a fairly rational person, more than you are being-”

“You can’t just tell someone something like that, Cas.”

“I’m only being honest and you _are_ very difficult, right now more than usual, which is kind of impressive actually.”

“Not that.” He looked up from his pillow, exasperated. “I mean you can’t just tell someone that you’ve gone and got feelings for them when you know damn well that they don’t feel the same way.”

“Feelings?” Castiel raised a very dubious eyebrow. “We never knew you had _feelings_. I’ll have to call the whole family and tell them.”

Nick sat up on his elbows, wanting a better position to defend himself from. “You’re mean when I’ve been drinking. I forgot about that.”

“Well you’re irrational and stubborn and I don’t like watching you treat yourself like this. You’re being an assbutt- and I’m sorry, but someone needs to tell you that.” He managed to sound mean and apologetic all in the same breath. Castiel was fairly amazing like that.

“Now, I understand why you and Sam agreed to having a casual, physical relationship. It’s not uncommon for people to engage in that sort of behavior, but I’m fairly certain that it’s something that you’re supposed to do with strangers, not with someone that you intend to be friends with. I’m not even sure if you’re allowed to see them the next morning, much less on a regular basis.”

“I told you, Cas. Friends… benefits.” Though right now it felt a hell of a lot more like friends with penalties. “It’s a common thing. Ask any of the cool kids.”

Problem was, the more Nick thought about that words that he’d shared with his brother the more he came to realize that the only part of it that had been a lie was the sex part. All he would have had to do was add ‘pretend to’ before the ‘sleep together’ part and he had actually told Castiel everything.

It had almost felt good to say it out loud.

Almost.

Mostly it was just terrifying to actually know what to call it. A name for this sickness inside him. It didn’t help in the slightest, but hell, it had a name.

He’d come this far though, neck deep and still sinking. It was the least he could do to just sit there and listen to whatever advice Castiel could come up with. It certainly wouldn’t make things any worse than they already were.

“I know that you’re just making that up. You can’t be that intimate with someone and still stay only friends. You’re lying to yourself at that point.”

“People are capable of having meaningless sex.”  

“But that’s not what the two of you are doing.”

A statement that was painfully true for more than one reason.

“So, for the second time I’m going to tell you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“No.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, Nick? He’ll tell you he just wants to stay friends? Then you’ll be in exactly the same place that you are right now.”

“No, we wouldn’t be, because he would _leave_. That’s the part you aren’t getting, Cassy.”

Castiel took a slow breath, eyes narrowing. “You are always so sure of yourself. And you’re the one who’s dating Sam, so maybe you’re right, maybe he would just leave. But is _this_ really so much better than being alone again?” He didn’t gesture around the apartment like he could have, he just gave a pointed nod to where Nick had curled back up around his pillow.

He was too tired, and sore, and hung over to defend himself any longer. And Castiel was wrong. He usually was in matters like this. Repressed little number cruncher that he was had never been in any kind of relationship to speak of. It was like a turtle trying to give a bird pointers on flying.

“Just go home, Cassy. I won’t go near the liquor cabinet again tonight. I promise. Ok?”

Resignation drew down Castiel’s shoulders, making him look even smaller, defeated. “You’re not going to tell him… ever, are you?”

“As respectfully as I can say this to you, because I know you mean well- oh hell no. And don’t you dare go tell him for me. I don’t need any help.”

Castiel got to his feet, coming to the head of the bed to pull the blankets a little too firmly around Nick’s shoulders.  “You are perfectly capable of keeping yourself miserable without any assistance.”   

“Damn right I am.” Nick was an adult. He could crush his own hopes all by himself. Thank you very much.

Leaning down, Castiel pressed a very small and careful kiss just above Nick’s right eye.  “A very good friend of mine gave me some very good advice a few weeks back. I’m going to pass it on to you because it seems like the kind of language that might actually make it thought that thick head of yours. Life is too short- so for fuck sake, do what makes you happy. Alright?”

Nick lay there quietly, looking up at someone who in his mind had never really stopped being a little kid- despite the ability to drive, and the college degree, and the stubble. He could count on one finger the amount of times that he’d actually heard his brother swear. It was startling if nothing else.

It felt like being tucked in and then berated by a complete stranger.

“I’m going to sleep out on the couch.” Castiel kept on talking because Nick hadn’t found anything more to add to this conversation. “Mostly because it’s late and I don’t like driving at night- and not because I don’t trust you. Even though you’re a notorious liar, and a drunk, and self destructive, and have the emotional maturity of a blueberry muffin, and I’m terrified that if I leave you alone like this the next time I see you will be in the hospital. By the way, I hate that you gave me power of attorney over your medical decisions because over the past six years I’ve had to come and tell the doctors three times to keep you on life support and I don’t think I have it in me to do it a fourth time.”

Nick pulled his brother down into a tight hug, squeezing him until neither of them could get enough air. Castiel squeaked indelicately and reluctantly they let go.

“I told you. It’s not like that this time.” Nick promised. “I’ll figure a way out of this mess with my dignity and heart still intact. No trips to the hospital. No drunken middle of the night phone calls. No drowning myself in pity and alcohol.”

“I found you an hour ago, unconscious on the floor spooning with an empty bottle of vodka.”

Nick couldn’t argue with such painfully clear facts. “That’s fair. But I promise not to do it again.”

Castiel looked at him, long and hard, no sympathy at all in his dark eyes. “I’ll be sleeping on the couch.” He patted Nick’s chest, stole a blanket and left the room, turning down the lights behind him.

Nick pulled his remaining blankets up over his head and thought how lovely it was to have a brother who trusted him so much. His phone went off in his pocket and he had to fumble like an awkward fool to dig it out.

It was a text, from Castiel.

- **I will make you pancakes in the morning if you behave yourself.**

Nick looked at it for a long while before typing back a simple ‘i love you too’ and then cradling his phone against his chest. He would never tell anyone, not even himself, but he was rather grateful that there was someone here tonight. Because if there wasn’t he would be going and getting out a fresh bottle to finish what he’d started. 

Staying on this side of sober he pushed through the aches and those melancholy feelings that had less to do with the man who’d left and more to do with the man out on the couch.

It would all be easier if Nick were a better man.

He made himself look back at his phone. It was almost four in the morning. The sun would be up soon. Either he’d fallen asleep at some point since burying himself under the blankets, or his brother had been working very late into the night before swinging by.

Either way his head had finally started to feel clearer.

Before he had time to second guess himself he sent a quick text to Sam. Then he sent three more, just sort of rambling through his half conscious thoughts. It was the only solution that he could come up with.

They could just pretend it hadn’t happened.

They could move past Nick’s accidental physical confession.

Most importantly, if Sam agreed, then Nick could still keep him. For a few more weeks at least. And he couldn’t really ask for more than that.

Well, he _could_. He was greedy after all, but he was also realistic and knew that Sam would be getting tired of him soon enough. A few more weeks were all that Nick was going to get, and he could be ok with that.

Such cheerful thoughts.

Definitely a good thing that Castiel had decided to stay.

And he did fall asleep that time, startling awake later when his phone vibrated against his chest like a miniature defibrillator, but then the phone slid off to lose itself in the millions of folds of blankets and Nick was left dazed. He dug his way out, wincing at the golden edges of light liming his tightly drawn curtains. He eventually found the phone and Sam’s words. Salvation in a single question.

- **pretend what never happened?**

Sam didn’t care that Nick had reacted wrong to this whole thing. That he’d slipped up and basically told Sam with one slow and very damning kiss that he thought of the kid as much more than a friend.

Just like that.

So easy.

The kiss never was.

They were back on track with only two weeks left of this horrible arrangement.

Nick knew that he should feel happy. Instead he stumbled to the bathroom and knelt on the floor, dry heaving up his empty stomach until Castiel appeared behind him and started gently patting his back.

“You drank far too much last night.” His little brother told him in a way that was almost sympathetic.

And that must be it. So Nick nodded along, because any other reason for a reaction like this wasn’t going to be one that Nick would be able to live with.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somewhere between the kiss and the midnight trip to the ocean

A broken hand followed by a fairly stunning chest cold, and this year was not off to a great start. It was good to finally get back to work. Familiar faces and smells. Nick was almost able to really not think about Sam for a few long hours at a time.

Good god, but it was like being a teenager again. How do you go and get a crush on someone at the ripe age of thirty? He was too old to feel this stupid.

So he pretended he didn’t know Sam for a few hours. He did a fairly good job of acting like a normally functioning adult who didn’t keep having chronic panic attacks every time he remembered he had a fake boyfriend just a few miles away, who wanted nothing to do with him.

 He happily occupied himself with shading a very nice set of red poppies on a twenty-something’s very nice shoulder. They’d been making small talk for nearly two hours. He knew all about the classes she was taking at college, her adorable blue nosed pitbull named Constantine, how she felt that she didn’t call her mom often enough, and that her boyfriend was taking her to go see that new scary movie this weekend- yeah, the one with the little boy and the demon, he knew the one.

And it was all normal stuff that he’d been good at talking about for years, it didn’t require much input from him, just a nod and a short answer from time to time. He wasn’t great at conversations, but he was good at getting people to talk about themselves which put them at ease and kept them mentally occupied while he dug small needles into their skin.

But she wasn’t satisfied with telling him all her little stories- she had to go and notice the mess of photos that he had pinned above his cluttered desk.

“That looks like a guy who was in my ECON class last term…”’

He didn’t want to turn and look. “The weasely little blonde man?” There were too many pictures of Gabriel up there. Tons of family photos, and most people commented on them at some point while they were stuck there getting a tattoo. Nick was unfortunate enough to have a rather attractive gene pool.

“No, the hot brunet you’re kissing in the photo booth.” She sighed longingly. “He looks like this firm young man that used to sit in the back row of one of my classes. The guy had to be like seven feet tall and had the ass of a Greek god.”

Nick really should take down those pictures from San Francisco.

“Is he your… _boyfriend_?” She peered at him from the corner of her eye in a coy manner- like there could be any other good reason for him to be grinning and smooching a man in glorious techno color if they weren’t in some kind of relationship.

“You could say that.” Nick offered carefully.

“He’s cute.”

“Yes. Yes he is.” He cleaned off his needle and dipped it into a darker red. “We’ve been dating for a few months now, and it still surprises me every time I see him. I don’t think the shock’s ever going to wear off.”

The woman giggled softly, looking up at him with a wide smile. “That’s so sweet.”

Nick might have started blushing. His face definitely felt warm.

“You guys look good together.”

It was such an off handed comment, but Nick found himself hesitating and looking over  at the little cut out set of pictures. Of him and Sam smiling for the camera, at the pretend kiss and the stricken look of panic that Sam got to wear afterwards.

Months had passed and they had come full circle.

Nothing had really changed.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the night before the midnight trip to the ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a side note, I finally have a day off work and I'm going out of my mind with boredom.   
> Someone come gab with me. All I've got it bad slashfiction and badder horror movies to keep me company   
> halp

“I think I have a date tomorrow night.”

Nick paused, pressing the lip of his beer bottle to his mouth and raising an eyebrow. From anyone else it would be a simple statement- but from Castiel it was confusing, weird, and downright unbelievable.

“Congrats, kido.” Gabriel grinned, slapping their baby brother on the back. “Anyone we know?”

Castiel shifted, making his bar stool turn this way and that. “Just a friend of mine.”

“A _friend_?” Gabriel teased. “Ooh, sounds sexy. I bet it’s one of your suit wearing accountant buddies. You two can talk about dividends and stocks.”

And Nick certainly wasn’t going to point out how badly Castiel was suddenly blushing, even under the neon lights they could all see how dark his cheeks were.

Gabriel pointed a slightly wavering at their dark haired brother. “Now, you know that you can’t put out on the first date, right? You don’t want him thinking you’re easy. It’ll reflect badly on the whole family.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Rehka shoved at her husband, nearly knocking him to the floor. “You can’t make these boys look any worse, than they make themselves. They’re both dirty whores and they know it.”

Gabriel looked up at Nick, a questioning sort of glance, asking if they should challenge this outrageous accusation- but then they both just smiled and shrugged because Rehka wasn’t exactly wrong. 

“You say _whore_ like it’s a bad thing.” Gabriel scoffed. “But you’re the one who dated both of us. Who dates brothers, I mean really?”

And it was lucky that he knew his wife so well that he knew the kinds of things that he could get away with saying. There were probably a lot of women in the world that wouldn’t take kindly to being reminded of such things, on their anniversary of all days.

Rehka didn’t even throw her drink into Gabriel’s face, she just took a slow, pointed sip of her martini before speaking. “First off, I’ve known you both since the second grade, and I never once wanted to date either of you. Secondly, if you hadn’t taken Lenette Patton to homecoming instead of me, like you promised you would, then Nick wouldn’t have had to step in.”

“Here, here.” Nick chimed.

“I was _not_ going to waste that dress and just stay home.”

“She did look damn fine in that dress.” He agreed easily.

“I did.” Rehka nodded to him like she appreciated the back up. “I looked so good in that dress that Nick and I got kicked out of the dance.”

Gabriel’s smile got a little tight. “And then we didn’t see either of you until Monday.”

Castile got a glazed over look. He’d heard this story too many times and inevitably had slipped off into some distant daydream about the date that he had coming up.  

Nick listened as Gabriel fell into the familiar rant that accompanied the fact that his wife had dated his brother for almost two months half a lifetime ago. Nothing had really come of it- well, obviously. Rehka ended up with the man that she was meant to be with. The same one that she’d always been interested. And Nick got to keep the girl from next door as the sister that he’d always considered her to be.

He shouldn’t love listening to them argue as much as he did. But it was a comforting reprise after the week that he’d had. Just something good and predictable and funny no matter how many times he’d heard these words.

Distractions were good. It’s why he’d agreed to come out tonight. There would be a real anniversary something or other this weekend- but for right now, on the actual date (how had it really been ten years since these two ran off and eloped?), it was nice to just get together and have a few drinks like they used to.

Castiel leaned over, practically putting his head on Nick’s shoulder while he spoke, soft enough that no one else would be able to hear him. “He won’t really think I’m easy if I put out, will he?”

Nick choked on his beer. “Whoah, hey. Cassy, start with kissing… or hand holding. Take it slow, ok. For you slow is going to be better.” This was never a conversation he thought that he’d be having with his brother. Cas was supposed to remain quiet, and celibate, and peaceful for the rest of his life. Not go on dates. Not want to know when would be a good time to try getting to third base.

“We’ve already gone farther that far.”

“… farther than hand holding?” _Please say yes. Please say yes._

“Than kissing.”

Nick put his beer on the counter and stood, taking his little brother by the arm. “Cassy and me are going to go get some air.”

Gabriel waved them off, preoccupied with the way the tip of his wife’s tongue was playing with the olive from her drink.

Rather forcibly, Nick dragged his youngest, though not smallest brother out the front door.

“What do you mean _farther than kissing_?”

Castiel looked up at him, then down at his shoes, scuffing them on the pavement. “It seemed fair to show you my relationship problems since you were so nice to share yours with me the other day.”

“When did you start getting relationship problems? You’ve never been in a relationship.”

“I think I’ve been dating him for a few weeks.”

“You _think_?” Nick’s head was starting to hurt. “Wait, weeks? _Weeks_? How have you never even mentioned him before?”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.”

“I don’t.” Nick folded his arms, partially because it was upsetting to know that his Cassy had decided to grow up when no one was looking, and partially because it was just really fucking cold outside. “You’re my baby brother and some bastard, pencil pushing accountant has been manhandling you.”

“He hasn’t… _manhandled_ me and he’s not an accountant.”

Nick needed to be protective over someone- and years ago the universe had seen fit to give him a very awkward baby brother who had always needed a someone to keep an eye on him. He hated, absolutely _hated_ that Cas suddenly didn’t need him. Or at least hadn’t needed him for a few weeks. Long enough to get ‘further than kissing’.

“When do I get to meet him?”

Castiel looked up at the low, cold clouds and the street lights. “You’ve… already met him.”

Very quickly Nick understood what was being said to him. And this was actually worse than if Cassy had been seeing a stranger. “No.” It wasn’t fair. “Not Dean.”

“Why not Dean?”

“Because…” _I’m fake dating his brother and that makes things problematical. “_ He’s a complete jack ass and you deserve better.”

“Well so are you and so does Sam but we don’t say anything about it.”

“Hey!”

“I’m not asking for your permission. I’m asking for your advice. He wants to take me to the drive-ins this weekend and I feel like that means something.”

Every now and then Nick became aware that there were some detrimentally large holes in the cultural education that he’d tried to give his brother. “For the love of- it means he wants to screw you in the backseat of his car.”

Castiel looked momentarily horrified. “It does not.”

“Why else would people go to the drive-ins?”

“To see a movie.”

“No one goes to see the movie. If Sam said to me ‘hey, borrowed my brother’s car, wanna go to the drive-ins’ I would know I was going to get laid.”

His eyebrows arched in confusion. “Why Dean’s car?”

“Because mine doesn’t have a backseat. You need a big backseat or you can’t get good leverage.”

Castiel pressed his hands to his cheeks, half hiding, eyes still a bit wide. “This isn’t helping me, Nick.”

“I’m not trying to help you, I’m trying to warn you- and what is that ‘further than kissing’?”

He needed to know if he had to kill a man tonight. If he had to go make Sam an only child.

With a mighty mumble, Castiel turned around, blushing hard enough that his ears had turned bright red.

“You mind running that one by me again?”

“I touched his butt.” Came the haunted whisper.

It was Nick’s turn to face the other way as he struggled not to laugh. It was difficult to hold on to his anger when being reminded of how ridiculous life actually was.   

“Have you guys…” Nick struggled to keep his voice even, “actually kissed?”

“Twice.”

 “As in on two occasions, or…”

“Two kisses, but the second one was on the mouth.”

Ye gods. _On the mouth_. They were practically married by this point.

Nick ran his hands through his hair and really considered his words before speaking. “You know what, you’ll be ok at the movies I think.”

“Really?” Cassy caught his elbow, turning him around and forcing eye contact. “What should I do?”

“You should watch the movie. Maybe let him put his arm around your shoulders.”

Castile lit up like a Polish church. “Do you think he will?” So much hope in that question.

Nick let himself laugh finally, not able to hold it back any longer. “If he doesn’t, you let me know. I’ll have a talk with him for you.”

“Nick. NO. This is all in strict brother to brother confidentiality. You don’t tell Dean about this and I don’t tell Sam about the other night.”

“So Dean doesn’t know you want him to… to put an arm around you?” Nick thought that his brother was probably the only person in the world where this was a real conversation that they were having and not some weird adlib game.

“It’s cold out here. Have we got enough air yet?” Cas evaded.

“You go back in. I’ll catch up.”

“You really think it’ll be ok?” Castiel needed the reassurance.

“You want me to come too? I can park my car right next to you guys and tap on the window if he looks like he’s going to try anything funny.”

That got a smile out of his baby brother. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I _would_.” He nudged Cassy back towards the bar. “But I won’t. You’re an adult now. You’ve got this one.”

“But I _don’t_. What if he wants to touch _my_ butt?”

Nick took a long, slow breath through his nose and tried to remind himself that this was a real question and not a joke. “If you want him to, let him. If you don’t, then punch him in the face.”

“That’s your solution to everything.”

It had worked for him so far- and he liked to think that at least someone would be punching Dean. Especially if the bastard was going to go around touching people’s asses.

“Just do what feels right, Cassy.”

 “And if he invites me to the backseat… and I want to go with him?”

Ah, so they had been working their way up to _this_ talk.

It was important to remember that Dad had left to ‘find himself’ a little after Castiel came to live with them, trusting his oldest sons to keep an eye on the youngest. But what the hell was a trio of twenty year olds going to do with a wide eyed teenager?

They simply did the best they could to undo all that repressed, uptight preprogramming that Castiel had come with.

But there were still those holes, and Nick blamed himself for them. As such he took it upon himself to try and fix things now. Luckily he’d spent the past three months researching this very topic.

“How detailed of instructions do you want?”

“No.” Castiel took back on that mortified tone. “I don’t want… well, that might actually be helpful in a year or so when I work up to it- but no. That’s not what I meant. I meant what should I do?” 

“I’m sticking with punching him in the face.”

“Nick-” He managed a thorough pout that made him look even younger and more lost somehow. “I’m nervous.”

“Then stay in the front seat.” It was the best advice that Nick could manage. “Wanting to do something and being ready to are two different things. If you’re nervous then don’t do it. If Dean really likes you he won’t mind waiting for the right time.” He could hear himself talking and he knew that he sounded like a PBS special, but it was out and he couldn’t take it back.  

For a moment it was just them on the street corner, Castiel all wide-eyed and tight lipped, and Nick knew that it had been the wrong advice. Good effort though, right?

 “I knew you would know just what to say.” Cassy’s teeth flashed in a sudden wide smile as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “If only you were as good at taking advice as giving it.”

“Go back inside before you embarrass both of us.”

“You should tell Sam.” He almost sang and he shuffled away.

“Don’t let Gabe buy you another drink. You’ve passed your limit.” Nick pointed out, because Castiel never changed the pitch of his voice unless he was completely sloshed. It also explained the whole conversation that they’d just had.

“I’m not drunk, and I’m not going to give up on you. We can both have ourselves a Winchester if you were only willing to be less of a martyr when it came to your love life.”

“We’re not having this talk, you little tramp. Now go back inside and warm up.”

Castiel looked like he was going to linger and argue, but he had left his jacket back at the bar and he was just about half frozen by now.

He shot his big brother a parting glance than the last few minutes all together before vanishing inside.

Nick leaned himself up against a lamp post and pulled out his phone. He knew that he shouldn’t, but this delightful new form of self torture was just too fun to pass up. Once or twice a day he and Sam would exchange a handful of texts while avoiding any mention of the last time they saw each other. Nick had tried to call a few times, but no one had picked up- which was fine. He knew that Sam had class and other things to do. Tons of reasons why he wouldn’t answer his phone.

But it didn’t make Nick miss the sound of the kid’s voice any less.

What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh again.

- **anniversary still in swing**

- **Cassy is drunk**

Just a little update since they pseudo-spoke this morning.  

It didn’t take long before Sam texted back.

**-you’re a terrible influence on your brother**

Which made Nick grin. He was half tempted to tell Sam about the butt touching, but remembered Castiel’s gentle threat. It would probably violate some kind of brother code to tell Sam about what was going on with their siblings.

- **I only had the 1 beer tonight im driving the kids home later**

It was part of his problem with tonight. He’d spent years drinking with Gabe, and social habits are some of the hardest to break. It felt like he was missing out on half the festivities. Like if they’d gone out to his favorite restaurant and he was only allowed to eat the free bread sticks.

Painfully sober was he.

Being the designated driver was his least favorite job at family functions. But he’d lost the game of Rock, Paper, Scissors to Castiel at the beginning of the night and it was only fair.

Waiting to get an answer from Sam, Nick bummed a cigarette from one of the guys on the corner. Horrible addiction that he’d given up after Lilith left. But he’d traded it for alcohol and if he couldn’t have one he may as well have the other. The heat filling his lungs was an old friend that he’d almost forgotten. It was probably his fifth cigarette in almost eight years, and it was a bad little stumble for someone with such an addictive personality- but no one inside needed to know.

Besides, it settled his nerves.

Talking to Sam, even in just short texts, made him shake.

- **do they get as handsy as you do when they’re drunk?**

Nick cracked a smile and blew a trail of smoke towards the sky.

­ **-gabe is alot worse and rehka gets too warm for clothes**

**-and cassy started tellingme about deans ass**

Brotherly confidentiality be damned. It was still the funniest thing he’d heard all week.

 **\- It sounds special.** **I’m sorry I had homework to do.**

And _special_ was one way to put it.

Nick got why Sam turned down the invitation to join them during the awkward collection of texts they’d shared this morning. Homework was a great excuse. No better reason needed to avoid spending time with the man who’d kissed him last week.

Cheery thoughts.

God he wished he was drunk.

He put out his cigarette on that nice stable lamp post.

**-theyll do it again in a year you can come see next time around**

The moment he hit send he realized that was the wrong thing to say. Sam wouldn’t be here next year. He’d be a good little lawyer in training with a fantastic, leggy girlfriend, and a good, normal, stable life that didn’t involve Nick or anyone like him.

See, maybe he didn’t need to be drunk.

He was doing just fine on his own without the help of Jack Daniels.

A chaperone. That’s what Nick needed. Someone to keep an eye on him, to make sure that he didn’t say or do any of the stupid things that he impulsively went to. A man like him should not be left to his own devices.

Sam didn’t reply and after a few minutes Nick made himself put his phone away. There were more important things to think about tonight. Or at least that is what he tried to convince himself of as he went back inside to join his family.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one of those chapters that was getting waaaay too long and I had to cut it in half with a massive effort to keep these bits small and concise.   
> Y'all know what's going to happen next anyways, right? Happy rolling around and lots of not saying what anyone is thinking because stupid boys are stupid.   
> I feel like there were important notes I wanted to put in this one, but it's almost 1 in the am and my thoughts have grown vague and unhelpful.   
> Maybe I'll remember by tomorrow when the other bit of this is edited and nice enough for consumption. 
> 
> I know part of what I wanted to say was that the next chapter for The Boy Who is almost done (woohoo), I just need finish muddling my way through the bad parts (you lucky ducks, such things to look forward to)- which I would have done today, but I wanted to get this side story caught up.  
> also, half of you seem to have tests.   
> Stop reading stories about boys (not) kissing.   
> Study more.  
> As a teacher, I am disappointed in all of you and your slacking.
> 
> that's a lie. I was writing kissing stories through every one of my finals for the last few years of school- not to mention reading anything and everything that looked like a good distraction from my studies.  
> Y'all just keep on keeping on.   
> You deserve the break.

“I just had lunch with your _boyfriend_.” Castiel sounded small over the phone, distant when mixed with all the odd traffic sounds and other outside noises.

Nick frowned at his phone, putting a hand over one ear to try and block out all the extra noises from his own work place. “Why?”

“Because it was lunch time.” Came the easy and logical explanation. “He bought me a sandwich and we fed the birds.”

As much as Nick liked to know that his baby brother was making friends, especially with a nice young man like Sam, it still begged the important question of _why_.

“He is… he’s a very sweet person.” Castiel stumbled beautifully through the normal, kind things that you are supposed to say about people, that the awkward kid had never been all that good at doing. “I don’t think he would friend break up with you if you told him how you feel.”

Nick rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, wishing that he’d never confided in his brother in the first place. Cassy had seemed the least likely to judge him or try to talk him into what he felt Nick  _should_ be doing with his life. Apparently not even Castiel could resist the urge to meddle.

“You didn’t tell him about our conversation, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t, you told me not to.” The majority of the background noises on Cassy’s side of the phone suddenly dropped off and he must have gone inside his office building. “But I really think you need to tell him, Nick. I’m worried what is going to happen if you two big idiots don’t talk about what’s going on between you.”

“Why are we suddenly both idiots?” He wasn’t arguing that he wasn't, he just wanted to know what had changed between last night, Cas asking for gentle advice about what to do on his date in a few hours- to suddenly Nick being an idiot.

Castiel sighed. “Because you are. And right now I hate you, and him, and you’re perfect for each other.”

That must have been some lunch conversation.   

“Take him somewhere nice, tell him you love him.”

“Cassy, no.”

“Then just touch his butt… and tell him you love him.”

“No.” Their conversation outside the bar last night had certainly opened up an odd new level of familial intimacy between them. “Because I don’t.” He looked over at his coworkers and how they weren’t paying a lick of attention to him in his lonely corner where he was curled up with his phone and his sketch book.

Castiel sighed in a long suffering way. “Nick, you make me sad, and really angry sometimes.”

“You can get angry?”

“I will tell him for you if you’re not brave enough.” It wasn’t an offer. It was a threat.

Nick never should have talked to Cassy about this. He’d somehow gain himself a sympathetic enemy, and that was not nearly as fun as it sounded like it would be.

“Good, god. I’m an adult, I don’t need you playing matchmaker.”

“I did that three months ago when I lied to you about meeting for dinner. This is now an intervention.”

Nick was getting one of those headaches that were generally reserved for mornings after ludicrous amounts of alcohol.

The problem with lying is that you have to keep it up. And that meant more and more lies added to the mix the longer it went on. At this point it really would be worse to tell the truth so he may as well just keep going on despite the fact that Castiel was his least favorite person to be dishonest with. What was that saying though, in for a penny, in for a pound?

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” No he wouldn’t.

“Really?” Castiel sounded surprised, but happy. And that’s why Nick hated lying to his youngest brother. He was just too gullible, and it made usual amounts of guilt escalate that much more.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re right.” No he wasn’t. “I need to tell him.” Nope.

“You’ll feel so much better after you do.”

Absolutely not.

“And Dean and I will be out most of the night, so it’s a really good chance for you two to be alone. I think alone time is the best time for telling someone you love them.”

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing with every fiber of his being that this was not a conversation that he was having. He never should have answered his phone.

He didn’t call Sam that night. He didn’t forget, he just never had any intention of doing it in the first place. Lucky him though, he didn’t have to.

Sprawled on the couch in his dark apartment, half watching some documentary on Volcanoes and half wondering when the hell his life had turned into a telenovela, his phone went off over on the coffee table. Rattling loudly and bouncing against an untouched bottle of beer. 

- **you asleep yet?** Came Sam's easy question.

Nick glanced at the time and wondered how it was that Sam wasn’t sleeping. The kid had school, shouldn’t he have reverted to some kind of regular sleep schedule?

His was not to question why.

**-it’s not even 3 yet. Why would I be sleeping?**

And to his surprise Sam answered back with a strange

**-I miss having someone else in bed**

followed by a slightly less strange

**-it’s kind of cold**

At just the simple mention, Nick pulled his soft red blanket a little tighter around his shoulders.

**-you’re cold?? You took my space heater with you when you left. Im freezing my ass off here.**

Maybe Sam missed having someone else in bed, but he couldn’t possibly be missing it as much as Nick was.

 **-turn the heater on** Came some sound advice, but the joke was on Sam because the heater was on, it just really didn’t work all that well.

 **-the heater doesn’t have your smile**  

He tried a feeble attempt at being cute, but the longer he looked at the words the dumber he felt for having sent them.

And damn everything- because it had been over a week since he’d seen Sam and his dimples and heard that laugh. Sometimes you have to suffer a bit for good things.

- **you have school in a few hours?**

Nick held his breath, waiting for the answer, trying very hard to be brave about this, to convince himself that the end result would be worth it.

**-nope. No morning classes on Mondays**

Oh, just go for it. Everything was going to end badly anyways, so he may as well try to enjoy the last little bit that he had.

**-come get coffee with me**

- **it’s 2:45 in the morning.** Sam pointed out like the stick in the mud that he could be at times.

And it was a fair argument, but Nick was an expert arguer who knew what he wanted and in the end Sam didn’t need all that much convincing.

He drove out to the little house with the picket fence and found Sam waiting on the front porch for him, hoodie and jacket pulled tight as he hugged himself against the cold. As the headlights rolled over him he started trotting out to the car, breath steaming out of him like a steam engine and he barreled into the passenger seat.

“Won’t coffee sort of keep you from going to be anytime soon?” He looked over at Nick with night black eyes, pressing his hands to the heating vent.

“What makes you think I want to go to bed any time soon?” He returned and threw the car back in gear.

Neither of them spoke, but it was nighttime and the hush felt right. Honestly, Nick didn’t mind. He was just enjoying having Sam within arm’s reach, even if he wasn’t willing to reach.

In the close confines he could smell the younger man, and he smelled nice. Nice in the same way that when you go visit a place you haven’t been to in years the familiar scent has a way of making you feel like you’ve come home. But that thought made Nick feel sad and he banished it, getting onto the freeway and leaving the city behind.

“Where is this coffee that you promised exactly?”

Where? Nick honestly had no idea. He was just driving at this point. “Uh, Pacifica.” If they had to be going somewhere.

“That’s a half hour drive… for coffee.” Sam was so smart. Look at him noticing that he was being gently kidnapped.

“It’s really good coffee.” Nick tried to promise, to ease the unease at this sudden journey they were on. “There’s a place out in Monterrey too, but that’s almost two hours and it felt a little ridiculous and out of the way.” See, this was the most logical choice. Just go with it, Sam.

“You’re a little ridiculous.”

Nick could hear the smile in the younger man’s voice, and it eased some of the tightness in his chest. “And out of the way?”

“No. I think you’ve been in the way since I met you.” Which could have been a bad thing, but not when said in that tone of voice.

“In the way of what?”

“Everything.” Sam answered with a sleepy yawn that Nick had no choice but to copy.

Miles rolled by, and Nick’s mind wandered. First to the boy sitting next to him, skirting the fact that this would likely be the last trip that they were going to take together. Drifting on to that kiss from the other night, the way that Sam had slotted right between his knees. But that thought was a bit too dangerous. He tried to focus less on his company and more on the winding roads.

It was a good idea after all. He’d totaled a car out here once when he was much younger. But drinking, driving, twisty roads, fog, and a startled deer had not exactly been on his plans for that night. He was sober now, and the fog was minimal, even this close to the ocean. All he had was Sam’s soft breaths and quiet shifting to serve as a distraction. It was more than enough actually.

“Nick?” Sam kind of hesitated. “I- I missed you.”

It was just so startlingly beautiful to hear those short few words. “I missed you too, darlin’.” He said through a laugh, and charmingly, Sam laughed too. It made Nick’s whole body relax.

Easy as you like they slipped into gentle conversation, talking about Sam’s classes, and how Nick liked being back at work after what felt like such a long break. They got to reminiscing over childhood vacations somehow, Sam had apparently spent most of his summers out visiting an Uncle in one of the Dakotas. This came with tantalizing mental images of teenaged Sam with sun kissed skin, spending weeks out on the lake with his brother- and Nick could have done without those particular day dreams, but now he had them. Sam with his long, skinny legs and a toothy grin, bare chested in swimming trunks and absolutely nothing else.

He downshifted as they came into the city, all the sand dunes giving way to the small, sprawling beach town and it's vacant, dark streets. They came to a stop light and as the car idled in neutral Nick let his hand slip to Sam’s knee. Absolutely not where his hand should have been going, but it was there before he had a chance to second guess himself. 

Sam shifted under his hand, spreading his legs just a bit, knee getting closer to Nick. It was almost like an offer, but at the same time so subtle it had to be unconscious, and Nick had two whole options, keep his hand where it was and pretend that this was ok, or quickly pull away and make the situation that much more awkward.

Obviously he chose to keep his hand there, enjoying the radiant warmth he was getting through the younger man’s jeans for as long as he could.

That damn light changed and he had to shift back up into first and off they went. Neither mentioning the touch.

Nick was grateful for the sleepy town that hadn’t woken up just yet. It meant that they were alone on the streets and no one was there to tell Nick to follow any of the posted traffic sighs and signals. He got to breeze down half familiar streets, taking a few wrong turns and getting lost just long enough to override those funny feelings crawling low in his stomach. 

He pulled into the parking lot, only to see that the coffee shop was still dark, not open for an hour yet. He really should have driven out here a bit slower. Given them more time with more of a purpose.  The car’s windows started fogging the second that he turned off the engine and it made everything feel even more secluded and intimate- which was actually not what Nick had been going for. Alone felt dangerous.

Sam was saying something and Nick was making an effort to not turn in his seat and look at the younger man, not really listening in the slightest- at least not until Sam suggested that they go out to the beach while waiting for the coffee place to open up. They could see if there were the makings of a fire.

It would be like the first trip that they’d made together.

Bitter sweet offer at best, and Nick swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat and agreed to follow Sam down to the water.

He would have agreed to just about anywhere at this point, as long as they could be going there together.

They walked down to the water's edge, lingering far too close, shoulders brushing from time to time, and it was almost exactly what Nick needed.

Almost.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go. A couple pages inevitably filled with typos, for you to cuddle up with.  
> Thank you to keelahselai, who has been writing me poems about butt touching, and to LethalDelicacy who had a lovely conversation with me the other night where we discussed Gabriel's secret closet full of ladies shoes. These are things that have been keeping me laughing, despite the kind of angsty bit of story that I've been wading through. 
> 
> Stupid boys have been making me feel frustrated, so I'm real glad to be done with Nick's pov. The next chapter for The Boy Who has been a pleasure to write. Not easy, but at least enjoyable in it's significantly smaller amounts of stupidness, and greater amounts of butt touching. 
> 
> We can never have too much butt touching.

Nick had done most of his growing up in San Francisco, with trips down to Santa Cruz with his brothers almost every weekend once they got their driver’s license. Both cities’ beaches were brimming with dirty hippies and beach bums, and there had never _not_ been drift wood piled up and the burnt bones of old bonfires.

Apparently Pacifica was a bit different. The long moonlit stretch of san was pale and perfect, not so much as a single strand of seaweed in sight.

“Parks and Recs district sure does keep things tidy out here, don’t they?” He mused as they passed under the pier, the last hope of finding something to light on fire and huddle around for warmth.

“Real inconsiderate of them.” Sam agreed, his hand brushing Nick’s.

But that wasn’t allowed because physical contact right now was lible to break Nick and he would just pounce Sam and try to climb him or drag him down to the sand where worse things would inevitably happen between them.

He shoulder checked Sam, nudging the kid away, getting some room between them in the gentlest way that he knew how. And Sam was laughing in that easy way that he could sometimes, like nothing had ever been even halfway weird between them. Like this was exactly what they both had been hoping for and everything was as it should be.

“I don’t know how I’m going to explain all this sand in my shoes when I get home.”

Nick pushed his hands down deep in his pockets and kept walking, because otherwise he was going to go back to where Sam was leaning against one of the pylons and push him against it. It was just something about that voice and the dark- and this whole thing was a bad plan that he never should have had.

“You didn’t tell your brother where you were going?” Just keep talking, it was safe.

“First off, he was asleep like a normal human, because it’s the middle of the night. Second, even if I had, how would ‘I’m going to get coffee’ possibly explain why I’ve got sand in my shoes.”

“Well.” Nick hadn’t really thought this one through, had he? “I guess when you put it like that…” his hesitating moment left him open and off guard for his earlier violence to be returned and Sam knocked him easily into the nearby waves. They weren’t even ankle deep, but his boots sent up a spray of water and his jeans immediately grew cold and wet.

But he deserved this, and honestly, he wouldn’t have not wanted Sam to retaliate. Laughing he stomped out of the water. “Oh my god. Sam Winchester, you are a monster.”

“You started it.” Sam was grinning as he darted away, keeping out of arm’s reach.

And Nick was not the kind of person who could simply not chase after a moving target. Too many years babysitting his nieces and nephew. If it was running, you were running after it.

“Come back here.” He demanded to the young man who had far too much of a head start.

“No thanks.” And Sam shifted from a scamper to a full out run- or at least as much as he could manage in sand, which was no friend to quick movements.

For what it was worth, Nick managed to keep up for quite some time, but halfway back up the beach he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to catch up.  Not that he minded watching Sam’s ass while he sprinted ahead, but he was running out of steam.

So he went for a normal tactic that always worked on his littlest niece. He simply stopped to catch his breath, and even when he heard Sam stop and ask if he was ok, Nick stayed bent over, hands on his knees, feeling his heart pounding. And sure enough, like it was scripted out, the nice young man who was so gentle and caring at times came over to check on him. He placed one hot hand on Nick’s back, so careful and concerned, and Nick took that moment of weakness to tackle Sam.

They landed in a rolling tumble in the sand, fighting for dominance and Nick won- either because Sam let him, or because he was actually stronger, it was anyone’s guess. Either way, Nick found himself pinning his friend by the shoulders, having to use his whole body to keep Sam in place.

“You won of a bitch.” He panted breathlessly, still laughing, teeth flashing in a wild and wide grin.

“Did I win?”

“You cheated.” Sam pouted, swallowing down his smile and doing a passable job at looking sullen.

“I didn’t see any rules posted.” Taunting like the brat that he actually was. “Can’t cheat if there’s no rules.”

Sam arched up, twining his arms around Nick’s neck, suddenly gripping him in a tight choke hold. “I could roll us both out into the water.” He threatened as his voice dropped so low it was almost drowned in the sound of the waves.

Nick panicked. “You wouldn’t.” And he started fumbling for something safe to hold, hands slapping the sand and then Sam’s chest and shoulders, little fistfuls of sweater.

“I wouldn’t?” He sounded so surprised, eyebrows hitching up, mock innocence.

“No.” He begged as gently and sensibly as he could. “You’re not the kind of guy who would risk drowning himself just to prove a point.” Mind you, Nick was- but he was betting his own safety that Sam wasn’t.

“I’m not?” Those eyebrows went up just a hint more as he started rocking and tugging at Nick, experimental little movements that made their bodies shift against each other in interesting ways.

Nick found it suddenly very hard to focus on the goal at hand. That goal being not getting rolled into the nearby, and inevitably cold waves.

“No. Definitely not. You’ve got a kind face.” He was rambling and he knew it. “Look at those dimples. Someone with dimples like that would never drag me out to sea.” Mind you, Sam was more than welcome to drag him just about anywhere else. It was just that the dark waves looked so very wet.

Sam chuckled in a terrible new line of attack, relaxing under Nick and blowing hair from his own face. He smiled up at Nick so easily. Peaceful and happy and open and positively kissable. It reminded him of that scene in the Little Mermaid when the chick drags the prince onshore and they just lay there, gazing dumbly at one another. Maybe he just watched too many movies with his nieces, because somehow that little analogy had painted him as a redheaded teenage mermaid and that just wasn’t ok.

And that beautiful boy under him was talking, but the only word that got through to Nick was ‘coffee’.

“ _Coffee_?”

“Coffee.” He repeated back very slowly and carefully, his hands smoothing over Nick’s shoulders in a way that was not the least bit helpful.

“Oh.” Get it together, Nick. “Yeah, they’ve probably opened by now.” And he laid there on Sam for a few second longer than was socially acceptable before climbing to his feet and offering his friend a hand up. He didn’t let go of that hand though, not even when they left the sand and made their way down the sidewalk back to the coffee shop with it’s now lit window.

Sam dragged him to a stop right outside the doors, using the glass to check his reflection, letting go of Nick and shaking sand from his hair. His reflection grinned at Nick, dark humor in his eyes. “I think I actually look worse than you for once.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that.”

“You should.” He agreed with a wink.

A wink. For Christ’s sake.

Nick’s whole mind went pleasantly blank. Next thing he knew he was sitting on the curb beside Sam, their shoulders touching and they both had seaming paper cups of deliciousness. And hey, he had a muffin sitting in his lap, so that was good. Apparently even in a daze he was able to order himself a suitable breakfast.

“I think the tired is finally catching up with me.” He confessed- even if he didn’t believe it. He sipped at his coffee and tried to let the heat fill him and comfort him, and make him feel less like he was going crazy and that coming out here was one of the worst ideas that he’d had in a long time.

“I can drive us home.”

“Stop trying to drive my car. She doesn’t like you.”

Sam snorted indelicately, knee crashing into Nick’s as he sipped at his drink. “How does it feel driving about forty miles for a cup of coffee?”  

 “Totally fucking worth it. I would have gone for Monterey if I thought I could get you back in time for school.”

“So considerate.”

“My whole god damned life has been nothing other than considering you for weeks now. If I could find a way to get paid to do it I could quit my day job.”

“You have high stalker potential, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Someone did tell me once while I was hiding in the bushes outside their window.”

Sam chuckled into his coffee. “You cheated out on the beach by the way.”

“I told you. It’s not cheating. It’s classic big brother diversion/sympathy tactics. Surely Dean’s used them on you before.”

“He has, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Nick swallowed some coffee down the wrong way and had to tuck his cup between his knees while he coughed and laughed. Old movie references made him happy, and apparently also gave him a drinking problem. He cleared his throat and looked over at Sam’s shadowed silhouette beside him.

“Now little brothers, they cheat.”

“We do not. Everything’s fair in a brother brawl.”

“No. When we were kids and he was losing, Gabriel was definitely a cheater. He’d start tickling.”

“Tickling?” Sam hardly managed to get the word out through his laughter.

Nick found himself sighing at the memories. “He still does actually.” Gabriel had kind of refused to grow up, and Nick could easily picture his brother, well into his fifties, still doing things like tying other people’s shoe laces together, putting tacks on chairs, and chasing people (hopeful mostly his wife) around with crazy fingers., just like he had when they were kids.

“I’m trying to picture this and…” His eyes lit up. “I did get you once, but I just assumed it was because you were drunk.”

And Nick had no memory of Sam ever doing anything nearly childish as trying to tickle him- but if he was drunk at the time then the little hole wasn’t much of a surprise.

 “So I’m a happy drunk.” He tried to shrug it off, attempting to excuse any inappropriate behavior.

“You’re a saucy drunk.” Sam corrected, and Nick would just have to take his word for it.

He looked out at the eastern horizon, wondering if it was getting any lighter or if it was just his imagination. He didn’t own a watch and there was no good way to tell how long they’d been rolling around in the sand before finally coming back up to get their breakfast.

“You also look tired.”

“It’s ‘cus I am.” No matter what time this part of the world had crept to, Nick could feel that he should have been in bed a while ago. He fought down a yawn and stretching his arms high over head, feeling his back arch pleasantly and his right shoulder popped just a bit.

Sam, darling that he was, reached over while Nick was vulnerable in mid stretch, and tickled along his side.

In the most masculine and well controlled way possible, Nick let out a sharp noise that sounded an awful lot like _yip_ as he tucked his arms tightly to his chest and tried to skitter away. However, skittering was near impossible while sitting on the edge of the sidewalk and holding a half full cup of rather hot coffee between his knees.

“No.” He managed to hiss, though he doubted that Sam could hear the protest over his laughter. “You’re going to make me spill my coffee.” Hot coffee in his lap was one of his least favorite things, and he didn’t feel as if he should have to really explain that one. It should be common knowledge to all men everywhere.

“Here.” Sam held a hand out, reaching expectantly for the little white cup.

“No.” He found himself saying again, not wanting to hand over his only source of warmth.

Sam’s fingers just waggled expectantly, and really, Nick wasn’t exactly capable of telling the kid no to anything. He handed over the coffee and watched with apprehension as his cup, along with Sam’s were set a few feet away from them where they would be safe.

Trusting in Sam turned out to be one of Nick’s worse plans because apparently that coffee was the only thing keeping him safe from Sam’s curious fingers.

A rather one sided tickle fight ensued- one sided because apparently Sam wasn’t the slightest bit ticklish in return and Nick as really too tired to properly fight back. It did help him wake up and from somewhere he managed to summon up the strength to catch Sam’s hands and pin them between their chests. While struggling to catch his breath be took note of the fact that Sam had come off the curb and was leaning against his knees, pressing close enough to ready a second wave of attack if he could only get his hands free.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a giggler?”

“I am a full grown man. I do not giggle.”

Sam only grinned, all teeth and hardly restrained violence.  

“You are a menace.”

“I’m sleep deprived.” He retaliated, eager grin still in place.

“You ready to go home?”

“I guess.” But he was still crouched there, leaning his full weight against Nick’s knees and the older man wanted nothing more than to let his legs fall open and let Sam fall against him. Honestly if it were practically anyone else Nick would have done just that- and then he would have kissed the grin right off that boy, and it would have been fantastic.

But this was Sam, and he wasn’t allowed to kiss Sam. Not even if it was situationally appropriate. So, reluctantly, he let go of the kid’s hands and watching Sam get up to his feet. And Sam was tall, taller even than Nick by a few inches, but he’d never really appreciated it until he was sitting down here and looking up at the six foot plus length of man.

He’d never wanted so badly to mouth someone around the belt.

Rather unsteadily he got to his feet, making nice, safe eye contact.

“Come on, darlin’. I’ll take you home to that nice warm bed of yours.” And despite how dubious that offer was, it was still a hell of a lot safer than saying even half the thoughts running through his mind.

The night was practically made of missed opportunities, and as Nick drove those winding roads slower than he’d ever taken them, he wondered how long he would be able to prolong the inevitable.

Maybe he should just take Cassy’s advice. Tell Sam that little secret that had been eating him up for what felt like weeks. Really, what is the worst that could happen? Sam would get that tight lipped expression that meant ‘I don’t want to hurt your feelings’ and he might say thank you or something else equally painful, before explaining that these months together had been fun, but he really just had never thought of Nick as anything more than a friend.

Or something possibly less specific.

It’s not like he’d played that conversation over and over again in his mind far too many times recently. Until he’d reached the point that he felt like they’d actually had it and there was no point left to any of this.

Sam shifted in his seat, apparently he hadn’t fallen asleep over there, he’d just been deceptively quiet for the past thirty miles or so.

“That kiss the other night…”

Wasn’t there anything else left to talk about? Some topic that didn’t make Nick feel like he’d been slowly going crazy, stuck in a horrible endless loop of sense memory, replaying every unhurried touch in painful technocolor.

“Hey, Mister College, we had a written agreement.” At least a text, but that totally counted, right? “It never happened. And you’ll only confuse things if you bring up something that never happened.”

For his own sanity’s sake, they really, really needed not to talk about that kiss. Much more of this and Nick was going to end up pulling off to the shoulder of the road and just confessing everything to Sam in the most convincing and physical way that he could until they were both breathless. Which was a lie. Despite how much he would absolutely love to just go for it, he knew that he would far more likely end up just hugging the steering wheel to his forehead and apologizing for his unwanted feelings until the sun came up.

“So,” Sam whispered like they were in a confessional instead of a car. “Do you want to break up early?”

“What?” Is that- is that why Sam thought that Nick had asked him out tonight? “No. Fuck, Sam. I don’t want to break up.” Ever. Never ever. “I just wanted some god damned coffee.” He felt like either yelling or crying at this point.

“Do you think I’m going to drive you out to the middle of fucking nowhere to tell you that we’ve convinced out brothers well enough, but this little game’s getting too weird and I want out?” Incidentally that was pretty much what he was expecting Sam to say to him any time now. “I could have done that over the phone.” Which might be how they would have to break up next week, because he didn’t think that he had the strength to do it face to face.

“Maybe you just wanted an isolated place to dump the body.” Sam suggested softly.

It was such a delightfully insane suggestion that Nick found himself laughing. God, he really was going crazy, wasn’t he? Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation though. A more comfortable and familiar scapegoat.

He’d be better in the morning.

He wished that he believed that.

This wasn’t as easy as Castiel seemed to think it was. He couldn’t just reach over, touch Sam’s ass, and profess his undying affection. It would be awesome if he could- but no. Life wasn’t like any of those hokey novels that he’d been reading. The devil couldn’t just say ‘I love you’ and have that somehow not end badly.

Sam didn’t say anything more, and the miles just got longer and quieter.

It was unfortunate that such a little kiss had said so much about what was going on between them. Nick was there, ass over teakettle in love with this stupid kid- and Sam was just enjoying the trick they were playing on their brothers.

“Look, we were both tired.” What was he even saying? Just trying to explain it to himself at this point. To find some excuse that he could buy. “And it happened and I don’t expect you to apologize- because I sure as hell don’t plan to. I like kissing. I like you. Those two things were bound to try and mix at some point. But it didn’t work. The end.”

The end.

Worst ending to the worst story he’d ever heard.

It was a shame that Nick had to be a main character instead of an innocent bystander.

 From the corner of his eye he watched Sam press a hand to his mouth, eyebrows drawn tight as he took oddly unsteady breaths.

And Nick wished to God that he knew what that meant.

It wasn’t the tired getting to him.

He really was going crazy, it was the only explanation for what he said next- his feeble attempt at following his brother’s poor (but well meaning) advice.

“Look… I like you. I mean, obviously. That’s how this whole mess got started.” He laughed without any humor. “But you’re my friend and…” and what? What Nick? There was nothing that he could possibly add to this to make it any better. “And I think for the sake of not fucking that up I’m going to stop talking right now.”

This was what Cassy had wanted him to do tonight. Funny how it was going just about as well as Nick had anticipated. Which was to say it felt like torture.

He should have just kept his damn mouth shut and ridden out this last week in contended repression like he’d initially planned.

“Nick, even if it was for a stupid reason, I’m glad that I met you.”

If you’re going to be turned down, there were certainly worse ways for it to happen.

Despite everything else, Sam was happy that they’d met. As consolation prizes went, it was a pretty good one.

In the face of his crippling regret over this whole conversation, Nick tried one last time to say the words he didn’t want to. “Would it be too weird if I told you that you’re pretty much my favorite person?”

Sam didn’t say anything right away, looking out the window instead as the moment between them grew a bit too… too much. It was just too much.

“No.” He finally told his own reflection in the window. “I think I could be ok with that.”

The next words spoken between them were as Nick pulled the car into the little driveway beside Dean’s Impala.

“I’ll see you.”

“Come inside.” They said at the same time and Nick’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.

As he had been expecting to hear a rather final sounding goodbye, this request sort of threw him off.

“You’re exhausted. I’m not sure how we even made it this far in one piece.”

“I’m ok.” He felt a little defensive, even though he also felt half dead. He hadn’t finished his coffee, and really? It had to be almost five in the morning at this point. Sleep had become just a distant memory. A craving for a habit that he’d given up forever ago.

“Come inside.” Sam said again, a bit more firmly, and he put a hand on Nick’s arm, gentle weight, and it was more than enough. Such a simple anchor, and he couldn’t have left at this point if he wanted to.

He followed Sam inside.

He followed Sam up the stairs.

He followed Sam to bed.

As consolation prizes went, this was also a pretty good one.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realized I haven't updated things in a bit again. I swear, the two things that I'm best at are missing my deadlines and staying up way past my bed time.   
> this chapter is a bit choppy and short, but I suppose it just reflects my mood. Things be changing in my life again, changing for the best, but still.   
> Change is scary.   
> Being an adult is scary.  
> Let us instead focus on boys who should be kissing.   
> They really should though, right? They would be really good at it.
> 
> soon.  
> soooooooooon

Making coffee shouldn’t be this hard, but in Nick’s defense, this wasn’t his kitchen and he had absolutely no idea where the Winchester brothers had decided was the best place to keep the sorts of things he was looking for.

After the third incorrect cupboard Sam made a rather frustrated noise. “Oh, for god’s sake.” The young man muscled him out of the way, steering him towards the table. “I’ll do it.”

“But you don’t know how I like my coffee.” He argued even as he let himself get planted in a chair. He watched in something like reverenced awe as Sam put together a rather perfect cup of coffee and placed it in front of him before claiming a seat for himself.

Nick looked up, wanting to say thank you, or maybe just cry, because he was _that_ tired at this point in the morning, but Sam’s bitter expression stopped him dead.

Something had gone wrong (again) between last night and right now. But Sam was the captain of mixed signals and Nick honestly didn’t know if he was coming or going half the time.

First Sam wanted to break up early, then he wanted Nick to stay the night. He had changed clothes night right there in the same room, stunning glimpses of winter pale skin, then he’d gotten into bed, put his back to Nick and simply said ‘goodnight’. And the older man really, _really_ , wanted to believe that there was some kind of potential here for something deeper if he only knew how to tap it- what sort of thing that Sam needed to hear from him to change his mind about their particular flavor of relationship.

Sadly the only thing Nick was sure of at this point was that people don’t just convert to new sexualities.  Watching his baby brother go through highschool with a baker’s dozen worth of crushes aimed at every and any straight boy who crossed his path, had taught Nick that much. He just never thought that he’d end up doing the same thing. If it had been hard to watch Castiel suffer through one unrequited love after another, it was twice as bad being the one going through it.

Chin up and all that.

If nothing else it was almost done.

“You alright?” He managed to ask.

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

Which might not have been a lie on account of they’d probably only managed about six hours of sleep between the two of them and if he hadn’t been abandoned and cold, Nick would have just stayed upstairs in Sam’s bed and tried to claim at least another hour.

God, his hands were starting to shake. He sipped at his perfect coffee, letting the heat and comfort it offered settle deep inside of him.

“Do you have class later?”

“Not until after noon.”

He offered without even thinking. “I can give you a ride.”

“No. That’s alright.” Sam said just as quickly.

And so they were back here. Less than a week left together and Sam was already half gone. Hadn’t there been some kind of mention of staying ‘friends’ once this was done? Whatever happened to that?

Them kissing in Nick’s kitchen is what happened to that one.

But they’d agreed that it hadn’t happened and Nick flatly refused to let a ghost kiss ruin a good thing.

“You want to run away from home together instead?”

“We did that last night.” Said Sam the party pooper.

 “But we don’t have to come back this time.” He countered, trying to sweeten the deal. “I’ve got some money saved up. Anywhere you want to go.” Not an offered he’d ever given anyone before. Not to a brother and not even to the devil woman he had married. But for Sam?

Nick was prepared to offer up everything short of a virgin sacrifice, but mostly because he wasn’t sure where to find one.

Sam got a little smile that he didn’t even attempt to hide. “I’ve got class in a few hours.”

“After class.”

Sam rolled his eyes so hard it must have hurt.  “I’ve got classes for the next four months.”

He was just being difficult at this point.

 _“After_ those classes?” Next year. Three years from now. Eighty-two Thursdays from this point. He was willing to take whatever he could get in the way of time frames.

Sam was worrying the inside of his cheek, those dimples of his peeking. He chewed on his words for a bit before finally getting out, “For the summer, as _friends_? Sure.”

Nick had only been offering as friends, but still. Sam didn’t have to emphasize it like that. Some pains could reach down past his spinney outside layer and do real damage. Some days were harder than others to pretend he was still doing ok.

“How… do you feel about camping?” Sam asked softly and when he was greeted with Nick’s stunned silence he pressed on. “We can go to Yosemite.” A small smile. “Maybe we’ll even see a bear.”

Nick laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Sam had remembered that stupid bear story from Thanksgiving. The one that had been getting Nick in trouble at family get togethers for years. But, damn it all, Michael hadn’t seen any bears.

He found himself laughing and joking with Sam in the same way that they’d been doing for months, and for a few seconds the world felt right and good. Right up until the foot fight, kicking mercilessly at each other’s shins. The table got bumped one too many times and coffee sloshed right out of Sam’s mug, leaving a dark, ugly spill to race across the tabletop, heading straight for the floor.

Sam was up surprisingly fast, running for the paper towels, swearing softly under his breath.

Just as quickly, Nick managed to cup his hands and catch most of the spill before it reached the floor. The fact that the coffee was hot took longer than it should have to dawn on Nick, his palms going from pleasantly warm to ‘oh god, why’ rather quickly.

“I got it. I got it.” Sam nudged his shoulder with a hip, standing rather close as he sopped up the mess. “See, this is why we can’t have nice things.”

Nice? “No offence, but it’s kind of a crappy table.” The little spill wasn’t going to cause any real damage.

“I meant the _moment_.” Sam sighed. “The moment was a nice thing.”

Nick dared a peek upwards, eyeful of the handsome young man from this close up, all strong lines and broad shoulders. If he just turned his head a little more he would be able to bury his face in his friend’s rather pleasant stomach. The things that he would like to do to that boy’s midsection. Even after just the littlest, fleeting glimpse again last night, Nick couldn’t stop thinking about it. He was suffering from some kind of post-traumatic-chest disorder.

Gee, it sure was a good thing that he was just so damn comfortable with his wavering sexuality as of late.  Mind you, he’d never actually considered himself _straight_ \- he’d never considered himself much of anything. You either want to touch girls, or you want to touch boys. A simple binary formula if there ever was one.

But seeing as Sam was actually not the first guy that Nick had kissed, perhaps it was a bit too late to really worry about his orientation anyhow. And the fact that Nick pretended that that first boy had never happened was not the sign of a pattern, just an odd coincidence that would also be ignored.

“Are you planning to save that for later?” Sam asked gently, eyeing Nick’s cooling handful of coffee.

“… maybe.” He shouldn’t feel guilty for the thoughts that he kept having about Sam, right?  But he did. Enough so that he finally got up from the table and dumped the coffee in the sink, slowly washing his hands. Taking all the time in the world to collect himself.

“I’m not all that big on camping.” He confessed to Sam’s odd reflection in the window over the sink.

“Oh… are you more of a road trip to Tijuana type instead?” The kid joked so easily.

Honesty always felt a bit dangerous around his friend, but it was hard to stop now. “I’m a ‘I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go- but I’d prefer it not be camping’ type.”

Sam seemed to consider this for a while before making a third offer for their vacation. One more insane than the others by leaps and bounds. “Backpacking across Russia.”

Nick turned to face him with a start. “Ok. No.” He said firmly. “that’s still basically camping, but you have to walk all day- and why the hell Russia?”

With a small, almost encouraging smile, Sam expounded on the good points of mother Russia, but all Nick heard was ‘bears’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but seriously, thank you guys for all your support.   
> Even when my updates are a bit late and lackluster at best.   
> Writing these silly stories makes me happy, and it means so much to me that you chose to come along for the ride. I'm really just a big awkward kid and I like the company.
> 
> I do that thing a lot of the time where I worry that I'm going to bother people if I talk to them, so I'm sorry to you guys who have contacted me and I just sort of shrank into my corner. I am an introvert of the highest caliber. I honestly just don't feel cool enough to talk to half of you.   
> the fan art and the love notes and GAH  
> and I don't know where I was going with that- just... thanks, you know?  
> I never expected to be so warmly welcomed into this fandom. You guys are the bestest.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> between this little chapter and the current Boy Who that I've been working on I feel like all I've been up to this past week is struggling to write successful kissing scenes between these two idiots.   
> so you've got that to look forward to I guess.  
> I mean... if you're here for the kissing.   
> Which I hope you aren't, because man, have you been barking up the wrong fanfiction. How far in are we, two hundred-ish pages, and they are finally getting around to maybe admitting to themselves that this is a thing that they want?   
> And you know, if you are here for the kissing (I know that I am) boy howdy. Have I got a chapter for you.
> 
> I make such promises.   
> Just watch the next chapter for the Boy Who suddenly not be the last chapter at all. It's the new 'second to last chapter I promise' and all it contains is a nice afternoon picnic and shopping for new jackets*  
> I literally have no self control when I'm writing. I just ramble on and on and feel guilty afterwards.  
> No regrets.   
> Just love.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *as of this moment these are not events which happen even in passing mention, but now I'm half tempted.

Nick was really starting to hate saying goodbye to Sam, and he wondered if he asked the boy to just move in with him and stay for forever, if that would remedy all these long and awkward partings. More importantly, would Sam say yes? They’d only known each other for a few months, but how long do you really need to know someone before you’re allowed to decide that this is the right someone? The kind of someone that you want to keep indefinitely.

He really should tell Sam all those stupid thoughts he was having. If only because it would remove any of those ‘what if’ feelings that Nick knew he was going to have in about a week and on into the next few years.

Cassy had been right.

He did that at some of the most inconvenient situations.

“You got any time between now and Valentine’s Day?” He couldn’t look at Sam while asking. He didn’t want to see what sort of reception his words were getting.  “We could get dinner or something… you know, one last time.”

And Sam didn’t answer right away, he just stood there in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, little frown on the corners of his lips. Nick watched every little twitch happening on Sam’s mouth until finally there was a wary smile.

“Aw, Luci, you wanna’ take me out for dinner?”

“I was thinking of ordering out actually. We could stay in. Watch a movie.”

“So… same as we normally do then?”

It had worked for them so far. “It’d be damn strange to go and start changing things now, right?” Nick took a moseying little step closer, the toes of his boots nudging Sam’s bare feet, careful not to stomp any toes. There was some reason in the back of his mind, keeping close, keeping warm from the cold wind hitting his back- but really? Poor excuses. He just wanted to stay as close to Sam as he was allowed for as long as he was. He felt like an idiot as soon as he realized what he was doing, but not enough of an idiot to take a step back to where he belonged.

Sam was half shrugging, one shoulder going up in a non committal gesture. No eye contact and for the hundredth time that morning Nick wished he knew what all this vague body language meant. Nothing good, but he didn’t want to admit to it. Acknowledging that this wasn’t working out like they had hoped and that it would be a good and safe thing for both of them once it was over, wasn’t something Nick was willing to do just yet.

He reached out to Sam for what might be the last time, running a thumb along his jaw, feeling the light spattering of stubble that lessened the impact of his boyish looks. And he wasn’t hoping to get anything out of that touch, just… just any excuse for physical contact that he thought he could get away with, but Sam was closing his eyes and leaning into his hand and Nick couldn’t help himself.

His mouth couldn’t seem to form the word goodbye, but he was able to place a glancing kiss on Sam’s cheek, and what the hell, it was all over anyways. He could at least try and get a laugh out of one of them.

“I don’t mind being a little late for work, we could go back upstairs an fool around until you have to go to school.”

Sam chuckled and turned his face a little more into Nick’s palm, hot breath against his wrist. He also gave a gentle shove, hands smacking against Nick’s chest in a way that wasn’t meant to hurt. “I’ve still got to go take a shower and get all the sand out of my hair, jerk.”

Nick grinned into Sam’s cheek, closing his eyes and trying not to imagine Sam in the shower because such things would be the death of him. But his friend’s hands didn’t leave his chest, instead taking little fistfuls of his jacket and tugging him closer.

It wasn’t a fight worth fighting.

“I could come with.” Nick suggested, overly self conscious about the way his whispering was getting ragged around the edges. “I’m a very good helper.” He hesitantly touched Sam’s hip and when he wasn’t smacked away, he tightened his grip, holding onto his friend because damn everything he couldn’t say with a straight face, but this is what he wanted. He wanted it so bad that he didn’t care if they were just joking around anymore. He could pretend.

Just let him pretend.

“You are the opposite of a very good _anything_.”

 Which was oh so very true and Nick found himself laughing softly. And this was either the very right or _very_ wrong reaction because the younger man was suddenly catching him up in a bone crushing hug, squeezing all breath and reluctance right out of him.

Nick didn’t know if he laughed, or whimpered or what sort of noise left his mouth, but he slid an arm around Sam’s back and just held on to his friend for all he was worth. One more kiss, perhaps a little too lingering was laid down on the hollow of Sam’s cheek, tangling his fingers in all that long, shaggy hair.

Sam didn’t tell him no. Sam didn’t laugh at the stupidity of the gesture. He just pulled his arms even tighter around Nick, and there might be bruises later today, but it was well worth the cost of admission. People over the age of about eight didn’t hug Nick. Not like this at least. This was… it was everything he’d never admitted to himself that he needed and he didn’t want it to end.

But nothing good could ever last, certainly not things that Nick wanted. He was slightly cursed that way.

“Nick… it might just be easier to say goodbye right now and… and lie to our brothers about the breakup later-”

“Fuck that.” And what he really meant was ‘fuck you for even suggesting such an insane and undesirable thing’.

“I get at least one more night with you. One more dinner. One more movie. One more time to try and keep my hands warm using your unhealthy body heat. One more chance to say something that I can regret for the rest of my foreseeable future.” He bore his teeth as he made his wish list, eyes closed so tight because he couldn’t bear to open them right now, it would make everything feel too real. “You don’t get to take that away from me. We had a deal, darlin’. We shook on it.”

He left out the _please,_ but it was there. Sam had to know it was in there.

Just this once.

Nick took a sharp breath as Sam buried his face into the side of his neck, breathing soft fire along his skin. Quietly dragging his lips over his pulse, reaping all kinds of beautiful havoc with each touch.

For a long held breath, Nick wasn’t even positive that it had even happened. But there were teeth cutting teasingly into the thin skin of his throat, and then a hot flick of tongue and Nick knew without a doubt that he had to still be upstairs in bed asleep. Only he didn’t have dream this nice.

His eyes flashed open, fearing to see one of their brothers lurking nearby- but no. It was just him and Sam and Sam’s sinfully deliberate mouth closing over his pulse. And Nick wasn’t capable of suppressing a shiver, his whole body begging yes with a singular tremor before he could stop it. He realized too late that he’d made a noise too accompany that, something gratuitous and alarmingly too intimate than what the situation called for.

But then again, what _did_ a situation like this deserve?

Low lights and smooth jazz?

Fanfare and confetti?

Soft applause?

Someone laughing and saying ‘just kidding’?

Sam was pulling away and the only thing that Nick could think to do was cling to him like a lifeline. Curling his fingers in a way that had to be painfully tight though Sam’s hair.

Just this once, for one god damned minute, couldn’t Nick just have a good thing? Was the universe as a whole really that much against him? What terrible atrocity had he committed in a past life that made this kind of thing ok?

“Sam. Sam.” He kept repeating like a prayer until the rest of his mind caught up. Maybe there was just a fault in the wiring, a missed translation somewhere down the lines. “I know it’s probably been awhile for you- but that actually means _don’t_ stop.”

Please don’t stop.

Please.

“Nick, oh god.” Sam’s voice had gone a bit high, startled like he suddenly realized what was happening. Like it was just as much of a surprise to him as it was to Nick. Embarrassment and anxiety having no place in this moment, but well and filling taking up all the little spaces between them.

“ _Please_.” Nick’s inner monologue found a way out of his mouth, and he felt his face go hot with embarrassment all his own.

And if he had know, if anyone had just sat Nick down and explained to him that all he had to do was _ask_ , he would have done it weeks ago. Because apparently that was good enough for Sam, and the younger man only paused long enough to still his panic quickened breaths before pressing a rather firm and unmistakable kiss to the dip of Nick’s collar bone.

More bruises made soft promises to him as Sam sucked and nibbled a tender spot into Nick’s throat, and little hesitant movements became increasingly curious, and then downright aggressive.

It was a problem that Nick had always had. Not so much that he liked being roughed up, because lord knew he could give as good as he could take. But he had this horrible weakness for people who knew what they wanted and had no shame in taking it from him. It had lead to him sharing his bed with a handful of rather forceful women- and now apparently doorways with equally forceful young men.

He found himself pinned against the frame of the door, infrastructure of the house digging in along his spine just as those hard angles of Sam’s hips were suddenly digging into his own. And Nick would like to say that he could remember each and ever shaking breath between them, each slow grind, and exact ways that their bodies slid together- but honestly? It just became a blur after that.

Right up until Dean was suddenly yelling at them to knock it off and Sam was backing off just as quickly as he’d come.

It took a few seconds to Nick to remember what to do with his suddenly empty hands. Had he been squeezing Sam’s ass? The idea almost made him giggle, but he felt rather unsteady in that moment and a lot of things were on the brink of happening to him if he didn’t calm the fuck down and come back from the borderline hysterics he was feeling.

How had he not realized that it had been _that_ long since he’d been with someone? Yes, it had been months, but he hadn’t considered just how bad he needed it until the offer was suddenly being dragged back off the table and he was left standing cold and stunned and unable to form complete thoughts.  

“Sorry.” Sam didn’t sound all that apologetic. “Nick was just leaving. We were… saying goodbye.”

And now that they had been interrupted, etiquette would require that they start back at the beginning of the goodbye to insure it was done right.

That’s how these things worked, right?

Right?

“I don’t care what you were doing. I just don’t want to see it.” Dean groused as he stomped his way down the rest of the stairs.

Nick glanced up, feeling almost confident enough to try more complex movements. And then he saw Castiel standing there. His baby brother wide eyed and embarrassed sufficiently for both of them.

“Cassy, why are you here?”

And he watched in stunned appreciation as his rumpled looking brother visibly pushed down his embarrassment, (cheeks still incriminatingly pink) a knowing look coming over him, outweighing all else.

“Good morning, Nick.” He didn’t answer the question, all while sounding so smug in those three words you’d think it was Gabriel standing there what obviously had to be the same clothes he’d worn yesterday, practically grinning at having caught his big brother necking in a semipublic place. No shame at all for the fact that his being here was far, _far_ more incrimination on the ‘what the hell is going on’ scale.

“And hello again, Sam.”

To which the kid didn’t seem to be able to remember the correct response and instead settled for going pale and stricken.

Everyone had been caught with their hands in some kind of cookie jar this morning- and the only one who didn’t seem to give a good god damn about it was Dean. Smug little smile as he pulled on his jacket.

And unfortunately, as soon as Nick took notice of that, all the remainder of his happy thoughts and feelings left him in a rush of breath. Castiel was here. In the Winchester’s house. He’d come downstairs with Dean. Apparently he’d made them all coffee this morning. He’d spent the night.

It was a little sad at how slow he was to put those facts in order and come to the overly obvious conclusion. Cassy had spent the night.

“H-how were the movies last night?” Sam asked in an overly loud way, drawing Nick’s attention for a fraction of a second, but then Castiel’s smile went soft and his eyes started darting around the room before settling down near his feet. “The first one was very exciting. Not very believable… but there were lots of explosions and at least four car chases.”

“How was the second movie?” Sam pressed, obviously trying to distract the room from the memory of what he and Nick had been caught doing. But it was working like a charm.

Castiel’s eyes went very wide as his examination of the floor intensified, cheeks going almost painfully red. “I don’t know… I didn’t get a chance to see most of it.”

It took almost everything in Nick not to grab Dean as he swaggered past and out the door, Castiel in tow, smug son of a bitch just asking to be punched in the face.

“How mad would you be if I killed him?” He managed to growl out between his teeth as he watched the long black car roll down the driveway and out of sight.

Sam didn’t answer right away. “It’s not that bad.” He lied. “I don’t think they actually did anything other than go to the movies.”

“He said they were going to the drive-ins, but I didn’t think they would actually-“ actually what? Act like two grown adults who had it bad for eachother? Well, if he and Sam could keep on not keeping on, then damn it all, everyone else should be keeping their hands to themselves as well. At the very least, everyone near his baby brother should be.

“If he touched my Cassy I swear I’ll skin him alive with a butter knife.”

“They’re both adults.” And it was hard to tell if Sam was being protective of his own brother, or just rational. “And if anything at all happened than it isn’t any worse than what we’ve been telling them we’ve been up to for months.”

Which was NOT AT ALL COMFORTING.

Sam obviously wasn’t getting the real problem here.

It had nothing to do with consenting adults, and none of his damn business.

It had everything to do with the fact that Castiel wasn’t really an adult in any practical definition of the word.

“But you’re not a virgin and Castiel is-“ he struggled to press the real problem here. “Or at least he better still be, because he deserves a hell of a lot better than his first time being with your fucking brother in the backseat of that car.”

Sam took a turn letting he eyebrows go up, his eyes getting wide. And maybe he got it. Because if anyone in the world could really know what a bastard Dean probably was, it was this kid right here.

“I… I’ll talk to Dean. Find out what happened.” Which was still not comforting in even the smallest way. When Nick didn’t answer he added. “I’ll text you. Ok?”

What else was there to do at this point?

“Yeah.” Because why not. He took a slow breath, counting softly to ten, all those little things he’d been taught when he was young to do when he needed to calm his temper. They never worked then, and they sure as hell weren’t working now- but it wasn’t Sam’s fault. “Yeah.” He repeated. He really wasn’t allowed to just have a nice moment was he? He couldn’t just make out with his friend and maybe rub against each other like teenagers at a school dance. Apparently these things were not allowed.

He tried a smile. “I’ve… I’ve really got to get to work. I… um.” Shit. Shit shit shit. “We’re still on for Valentine’s Day, right?”

Sam looked at him like he was the devil himself. All kinds of shock and uncertaintly and ‘oh god, what are we doing’ coming so clearly over his face.

Nick was glad that he’d never lost the knack of saying the worst things at the worst possible time.

“Ordering out, staying in.” He tried to save things, to draw attention towards food and safe activities and not a reminder of the fact that they were in the most fucked up kind of non-relationship imaginable at this point. “We can sit on the couch and not cuddle… because we’re men.” Trying to make a joke at this point was not the way to go, but Sam kind of chuckled and wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Very straight men.” He agreed tightly.

The kid had been right earlier. It would be so much easier to just ‘break up’ now. What else was there to say?

Nick touched his own throat, rubbing at the soreness that ran from almost his ear down to his collar bone.

Maybe there were still things to say.

Quite a few new things to say actually.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> at the tail end of chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha- I bet you didn't see this coming. So soon after a Boy Who update?  
> Madness.
> 
> Really, this falls into more of a little something something that happened that has no bearing on the plot AT ALL  
> It just made me happy. 
> 
> as someone who is a mighty older sibling, I have a weak spot in me a mile wide for little brothers (I've got 5 younger brothers to call my very own. horror, right?). I love writing sibling interactions.  
> But you've been reading this far, you probably already noticed.  
> ah well. 
> 
> as customary with these middle of the night updates, sorry for all the typos that I'm sure I missed.   
> and keep on being the most awesome readers ever.

There was so god damned much work to catch up on down at the shop. Nick was thoroughly enjoying hiding from it. A few years back he’d rented out a room in an art studio down near the college. It was his own little work space where he could paint and avoid responsibility. Work knew how to get a hold of him if they needed him- they had his cell phone number, and maybe one of the guys knew the address, which was more than Nick’s own bother knew about it.

Castiel might have had an inclination that Nick did most of his painting somewhere outside of the apartment form the years that they’d lived together, but true to his best baby brother’s nature, he’d never really asked about it.

And as a summoning went, thinking about his brother for even a second meant that Nick’s phone lit up, but he couldn’t even hear the ringing over the music he was blasting so he grinned to himself and swished his brush through the little mud colored jar of turpentine on his shelf and went back to painting.

Almost two hours later he got up to stretch, turning down his music a few decibels and looked around the sprawling room, checking to see if anyone had snuck in while he was involved. He tended to get a little lost while he was painting, the head phones and deafening music didn’t help either.

It was a small studio, he shared it with three of the Masters students from the college. One sculptor and two painters. None were here now, and he honestly couldn’t remember if any of them had been when he’d come in earlier. He’d been pretty out of it all day.

He also blamed Sam and that mouth of his for the distraction- but hey, Nick was by no means complaining.

He paced for a bit, turning away from his painting and all the little preliminary sketches tacked to his wall. The front door rattled and he just about jumped out of his skin, turning to see Nari, one of the painters letting herself in, balancing her paint box and two tall paper cups of coffee.

“Break?” She offered and Nick immediately came over and helped her.

“Yeah, thanks.” Ok, so it had to be late at night by now, and she must have stepped out for a bit. It meant that the small Korean girl _had_ been in here earlier and Nick just hadn’t noticed her.

“It’s coming on.” She nodded to his cluttered corner as she tossed down her paint box. “Me and Dianne were admiring him this last week. We call him ‘The Perfect Man’.”

Nick snorted softly into his coffee, burning his tongue and laughing a bit. “I do too.”

“I want one of those sketches when you’re done.”

He tipped his coffee to her in a salute. “Gladly.” They made small talk for a bit while she messed around with her pallet (apparently she’d left half her paints at home and had to go back and get them), how were classes, did you see what Aaron was working on in his corner, those are some real nice love bites, didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Normal little things to catch up with each other. Nick didn’t tend to come around to the studio during normal hours. He was a nocturnal creature and only got to visit with the students sharing his space once or twice a month.

 Nari eventually had caffeinated herself enough to go back to the kaleidoscope of colors that had been laid out in a way reminiscent of a cityscape. Tall, hard lines. It was too bright for Nick, but it wasn’t his painting and she hadn’t asked for his critique.

So he went back to his corner, glancing at his phone to get the time of night- but all he saw was eight missed called. Christ. What now? Was the shop on fire?

He tapped the screen again.

Every call was from Castiel.

Nick called his baby brother, throat feeling a bit tight in anticipation.

The phone picked up almost instantly, but there was no greeting, just sharp breaths.

“Cassy?”

“I keep hearing a noise under my bed.”

Nick glanced sidelong at his phone for a heartbeat. “What?”

“A noise, Nick. Like a scratching.” He sounded on the verge of panic. “Like there’s a possessed doll down there with a kitchen knife, cutting little holes in the mattress and she’s going to stab me.”

Very quietly, but very quickly, Nick went outside with his phone- not wanting to have this particular conversation where someone could hear them. “Are you high?”

“No. It’s,” Castiel took a forcibly slow breath, shaking just a bit. “it’s like in the movie I saw last night.”

“I thought there were car chases and explosions in your movie.”

“That was the first one. The second one was, it was kind of scary.”

Nick sighed, it was the evil dentist movie all over again. Terrible flashbacks to Castiel’s late teens when Nick had made a grievous mistake of showing his kid brother how much fun horror movies could be. “There’s not a doll with a knife under your bed, Cassy. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep in here with that noise.”

The noise that he was in all likelihood completely imagining. “Then go sleep on the couch.”

“If I get out of bed she’ll cut my hamstrings.” Castiel whispered in something that sounded almost like anger. Like how dare Nick try to encourage him into such suicidal action?

“What the fuck kind of movie did he take you to last night?”

“ _Nick_ ,”

“I swear to god that there’s nothing under your bed.”

Silence hung between them for almost too long. “Can you come check?”

“I’m- I’m not home right now.” They lived less than a mile apart. On any other night Nick would have gone straight over. He scrubbed the back of a wrist over his forehead. “You want me to stay on the phone with you for a bit, until you feel better?”

_Until you calm the fuck down enough to go back to sleep?_

“I’m not going to feel better. I can hear the scratching.”

“It’s probably just a mouse.”

“I don’t have mice.” He said sharply.

“Maybe it’s a turtle.” Nick suggested easily.

“How would a turtle get into my house?”

It was a struggle not to ask the more important question of why a turtle would be under Castiel’s bed with a knife.

“Could be a trained monkey, carefully writing out the complete works of Shakespeare with a quill pen… for authenticity.”

Castiel sighed in annoyance.

Nick smiled to himself and continued to make a fairly outrageous list of possible suspects until Castiel was chuckling and yawning in turn. Eventually he stopped responding altogether and Nick went back inside, not hanging up yet, keeping the phone to his ear for a few more minutes until he was sure that his brother was well and truly asleep.

Once he was positive that the crisis had passed, Nick set his phone back on the desk and returned his coffee, reminding himself so easily that he really didn’t like Dean. Nick didn’t like anyone who made it hard for his brother to sleep.

Likewise, he didn’t like anyone who kept him from sleeping.

Two hours later, when he was finally back at home and climbing into bed, when his phone started ringing again, Nick liked Dean even less.

He flatly refused to go to Castiel’s. He loved his brother, but it was almost five in the morning. The sun would be up soon. All he had in him at that point was to convince his brother that if, nothing else, the nightmare that he’d just had and the scratching noise couldn’t hurt him once the sun hit the horizon.

They both managed a bit of sleep after that point, but it wasn’t anything of quality, and each time Nick’s phone lit up the midnight darkness of his room- every damn night that week when Castiel called him in a nightmare induced panic- he found himself hating Dean a bit more.  


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think right now is a good time to post this.  
> I felt like main story got too far past this point for it to be a relevant scene... but then I was writing this morning and realized I really wanted and needed this kind of stupid/happy
> 
> so this falls right before chapter 16 and the sexy times and confessions and all that whooha.   
> It's just fluff  
> but I like fluff.

“So,” Nick announced as he slid into the car beside Sam, “I’m calling this ‘our first date three months too late’.”

“I didn’t know it needed a name.” Sam scoffed, putting the Impala in reverse and carefully rolling back out of Nick’s apartment complex. “Also, this isn’t a _first_ date.”

But Nick had made a decision this afternoon and he would not be swayed. There came a time and a point in which you can’t just let the world keep moving around you. If you want the impossible you have to make it want you back. “ ‘s totally a date. You stole your brother’s car. We’re getting dinner and a movie. I’ve only heard one story about it, but as far as I know this is actually how _you_ do date people.”

“I was sixteen then, Dean knows I took the car tonight, and neither of us are losing anything in the backseat.” He gave Nick a very significant amount of side eye and kept driving. “And the trip to San Francisco was a date.”

“That was a business meeting.”

Sam let out a startled yip of a laugh.

“We were figuring out a plan of attack.” Nick argued easily. “It wasn’t a date.”

“You literally slept in my bed and used me as a blanket. How is that not a date?”

“There was no intention behind it. Just a need for warmth. You can’t count that.”

Sam drummed his fingers over the steering wheel, sucking little hollow dents in his cheeks. “Is there intention behind tonight?”

And, to his credit, Nick didn’t actually chicken out for once. “I figure all this ‘pretend dating’ and lying about what's going on between us for the past few months- maybe we earned one real night out.”

Well, he didn’t say exactly what he had meant to, but he didn’t just frown and look out the window either. He was going to count it as a win in his book.

“So…” Sam’s eyebrows went low and he glared at a traffic light as the car idled. “So is this a real date?”

“It’s an I don’t know what the fuck it is, I just know that I want it to be with you.”

Sam didn’t look over at him, but even being half turned away couldn't quite hide the hint of a smile that curled the edges of his lips. “That’s almost romantic, _Luci_.”

And this was precisely why they couldn’t do nice things. Nick chewed the inside of his cheek and pulled an arm around the back of the seats, hand resting behind Sam’s neck, so close but not quite touching. “Aw, _Sammy_ , you know I can’t help myself around you.”

Sam just sighed in surrender. “Shut up.”

And Nick wanted to say ‘make me’, but he wasn’t _that_ childish. Instead he took a liberal handful of the  kid’s hair and gave it a firm tug.

Back arching in a rather interesting way, Sam hissed softly before he licked his lips and gave Nick some more of that side eye he did so well. “Don’t you make me pull this car over.”

If that was the worst temptation that Nick had to endure tonight he was going to be ok.

He let Sam pick where they were going tonight, so they ended up at an upscale pizza joint that apparently had really great salads. Despite this depressing information, Nick’s affections for his friend were not lessened.

They were put in a booth in a back corner, and for the night before Valentine’s Day, the place was almost dead. He would have been willing to bet money that there would have been a long wait, what with all those amazing salads… but no.

It was just them with their round table and high backed benches, and handful of other people. What looked like three couples on dates, one cluster of slightly rowdy twenty somethings, and that was about it.

Nick ordered a pizza, because he wasn’t some kind of six foot tall princess lumberjack unlike the glorious creature beside him.

He propped his feet up on the bench seat beside Sam’s hip, reclining and finding comfort in just sitting here where he could admire all the things that he couldn’t have. They talked while they waited for their food to get there. About nothing, and everything and just all the stupid inbetween that you can get lost in with someone you love listening to.

It was a shame when their food got there, gently interrupting them.

“Are those really artichoke hearts on your pizza?” Sam looked like he was holding back a laugh as he watched Nick taking a big bite of his dinner.

“So?”

“For someone who was just mocking my salad…”

“It’s also got bacon on it.” He pointed out defensively around a mouthful of deliciousness.  “It’s a man’s pizza. Swine.”

Sam smiled at him with both dimples, laughing and looking away.

And Nick didn’t whimper, or confess undying love in response to that- which mean that he still had the smallest control over his crippled self-control.

The two of them ended up closing the restaurant down, completely losing all track of time as they talked about some of the most dumb ass things. Arguing about the old Scooby Doo cartoon, and who was hotter, Velma or Daphne. About whether or not every man in the world was prepared to make an exception to his sexuality for David Bowie, or it just so happened that they both had that in common. He couldn’t even remember half the stuff they discussed by the time that the staff chased them out with dirty looks.

Nick left a forty dollar tip on the table and a toothy apology, bravely taking Sam’s hand as they wandered out into the parking lot.

“I think we missed the movie.” He breathed the words up at the sky.

Sam raised their twined fingers high enough to give them a bit of narrow eyed scrutiny before shrugging and giving Nick a little squeeze. “You wanna catch a later showing?”

“As opposed to…?”

“Fooling around in the backseat of the car?”

His breath caught in his throat for a second. “Yes- _yes_ , that’s exactly what we should do.” There was no contest. “Please.” Hell, asking had worked fairly well for him the other day when he’d been trying to leave Sam’s house. It was worth a try.

Sam just laughed and unlocked the driver’s side, and to Nick’s surprise, the kid didn’t let go of his hand, but used it as leverage to shove Nick into the car, crawling in after him.

And despite any embarrassment that accompanied it, he found himself chuckling nervously and Sam bore down on him.

“Font seat- little less traditional, little less room, but fuck yeah.” His mouth running on its own.

“Oh my god, Nick.” And Sam started laughing too,  only in a significantly less nervous way, letting go of his hand and swinging his legs around so that he could sit on his ass instead of kneeling between Nick’s knees. “I was _joking_.”

Well… yeah… of course he was- it didn’t mean that Nick was prohibited from hoping, or dreaming. “Come on, someone needs to bite my neck and I can’t do it myself.”  The best he could manage right then was to joke and hope Sam didn’t catch on.

Sam laughed a little more, slamming the driver’s side door and leaning back on it.

“Just for the record, as a boyfriend, you’re mean to me.” Nick pointed out, mirroring the younger man, drawing his knees to his chest.

“Not as mean as you want me to be.”

“The night is still young, Sam- and hope springs eternal.” There might be a way that Nick could sweet talk a little kissing into this evening. He’d have to be sly about it, passing it off as some kind of necessity… just so they wouldn’t be out of practice for when they inevitably reached the end of this and started (real) dating other people.

Sam checked his watch and peeked up with a wry little smile. “It’s after eleven. We’re almost out of tonight and into tomorrow at this point.”

“You say it like we haven’t pulled all nighters before.”

One of Sam’s feet darted out, nudging him. “We’re not having sex, pretend or otherwise in Dean’s car, but I’ll stay up with you as late as you want.”

It was… a pretty good offer. Probably the best he was going to get, so Nick wasn’t about to turn it down.

“We can’t even lie to him that we had just a _little_ sex in his car?”

“How do you have just a little sex?”

Nick bit his lip, trying not to smile. “I can show you.”

Sam just started laughing again. “You’re not allowed to drink when we go out anymore.”

Nick had only had half of the beer that he’d ordered, not even enough to get a comfortable buzz, but Sam probably hadn’t’ been paying attention to the attempt that was going on over here.

 It was a legitimate struggle. Nick swore he could feel the lack of alcohol all the way down to his fingers. The slight tingle and odd numbness that ran up into that hollow craving in his gut that had been gnawing away at him for a few weeks now. He still had his after work shot of whiskey, but every other bottle in his house had run dry and not been replaced. And it wasn’t like he was making this change for Sam specifically- but… but… ok, so it was wholly for Sam.

The kid had mentioned in the worst passive aggressive way possible, on numerous occasions, that he thought Nick drank too much. The world as a whole thought that Nick drank too much, so there was nothing new there. But the world didn’t have Sam’s dimples, and the world had never gotten lost with Nick in a kiss that was only supposed to be for show. The world also didn’t possibly have the same mean as fuck alcoholic father that Sam had gone cross country to avoid.

So Nick was making an effort that no one else had acknowledge yet, and that was ok he guessed. Kind of.

He smiled at Sam, tightlipped and showing none of the shaking withdrawal that was constantly chipping away at him. Because this goofy kid who had launched back into some convoluted story about giving his uncle’s dogs peanut butter when he was a kid, accompanied with elaborate hand gestures and a very distracting thing with his tongue. And Nick was happy with the choices that he’d made.

The windows were white and Nick’s chest hurt from laughing so hard by the time his phone started ringing. It was after midnight, and no one should have been calling him at this hour. He nudged Sam’s knee with one of his own, not entirely sure when they’d managed to get their limbs so tangled, but oh well, and he dug his phone from a pocket.

He glanced at the caller id and grunted in annoyance, tossing his phone onto the dash.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“It’s just Gabriel.”

“What if it’s important?”

“It’s… _just_ Gabriel.” When had his brother ever had anything even remotely important to ask in the middle of the night?

But Sam was doing that thing where his eyes went round and dark and pleading. Worry for no good reason.

Nick grunted and picked back up his phone. “What?”

“Whoa, hey, mister grumpy.” Gabriel laughed. “Hello works too.”

Nick found himself looking towards Sam for strength, but the other man was just grinning. Completely useless.

“Hi.” He said tightly. “What do you want?”

“God, you make it seem like a chore. Am I interrupting something?”

“I mean, I’ve got Sam’s legs up over my shoulders here and we’re kind of in the middle of it, but I can take a minute if you needed something important.”

There was a funny thunk sound as Sam threw his head back, stifling silent laughter and knocking himself against the window.

Nick grinned.

Gabriel was just quiet for a few really nice seconds that didn’t last. “Speaker phone.”

“Hell no.” Why did everyone take him so seriously?

“Come on, I’ll be real quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“I’m not letting you listen to me have sex with my boyfriend.” He found he couldn’t quite make eye contact with Sam while saying those words, and that probably meant something, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to think about right now, in these close confines where he couldn’t really do anything about it.

“Come on, you’re going to be doing it anyways, can’t I-”

But Nick lost the end of that because Sam had rocked forward, close to the phone, considerable closer to Nick, his eyes drifting half closed as he let out of breathy kind of moan.

“I’m so close.” Sam’s voice had managed to drop down to a husky kind of growl to match the dark look passing over his face. “Fuck, Nick, don’t stop.”

And Nick almost dropped his phone.

He had no idea what was happening, but he knew he liked it, and if at all possible he wanted more of it.

“Oh my god.” Gabriel said in a small voice against his ear and it scared the crap out of Nick, startling him away from the almost inescapable gravity of Sam and his exaggerated breaths, and that sly slime, the little wink.

That’s right. They weren’t actually slowly dancing around each other with the intent of eventually making a deeper relationship out of this. It was still just this enormous train wreck of a plan to convince their brother’s that there was something deeper.

Funny how Nick kept forgetting that.

But it was hard to not let himself get sidetracked by Sam.

Especially in moments like this.

He fumbled the end call button and found himself grateful for the dark of the car so that Sam would never know about the heat creeping up his neck. Far too damn old to be blushing like a kid, but Sam was throwing his head back and laughing and how else was Nick supposed to handle it?

“You are the worst.” He managed to say softly, dragging his eyes away from Sam, jamming his phone back into a pocket.

“What did he say- what did he say?” Sam grinned around the question.

“He was too stunned to say anything,” and then Nick was returning the grin with an unbalance feeling. “So… good job I guess.” He leaned back against the cold window, trying to give himself a bit of space for safety reasons.

Sam just looked proud.

“Warn me next time, ok?”

But Sam just bit his lip and shook his head, far too pleased with himself.

“You’re the worst.”

“You liked it.”

And Nick did. But no good could come from admitting it out loud.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just a short little bit this time. I was working through all the things that I haven't touched yet in this story- and as I was putting this part together I really quickly realized that if I let it continue then it was going to just quickly devolve into reckless smut.  
> so... instead of just deleting this and moving on to a better working from point I figured I would put this here. 
> 
> Yay?
> 
> I do want at least one little chapter on this one of happy Nick and Sam dating before everything goes awry, so you've got that to look forward to in this seemingly never ending story

It really never was going to get any easier to say goodbye to Sam, and as Nick saw his friend getting slowly to his feet, holding out a hand to shake and smiling like a ghost, he realized he couldn’t do it again. It would break him.

“You know what?” The words coming out of him in a rush. “No.” And Nick felt that at this point putting on a blindfold and lighting up a last cigarette would feel like substantially less of a risk.

“...no?” Sam sounded small and uncertain, his hand still hanging in mid air.

“Fuck this.”

“...fuck this?” Sam repeated in the same baffled way.

“Fuck the whole goddamned thing.” He clarified and it felt stunning. “I thought I could go through with it- but I can’t. So fuck it. If you’re leaving then I’m getting a goodbye kiss. I’ve earned it.” I was supposed to be bold, but really it was just terrifying, drawing a big old X over his heart so Sam would know where to shoot.

“Earned a kiss?” Sam’s eyes had gone wide and he took a small step back. “Nick, I-I don’t-”

“Look, I’m not going to end the most meaningful relationship of my life with a fucking handshake.” He cut the younger man off. Panicking. Trying to keep things even slightly under his own control. “Do you really think that, years from now, when you’re all grown up with your perfect little wife, and your two point three kids, and your white picket fence, that it’s going to matter to you how we said goodbye tonight? Because it won’t, Sam. We both know that this is The End. You’re leaving and it’s just… it’s done.”

Nope.

He never really had that control. It had been a poor illusion at best. “It ran its course, and it served its purpose and you could do a hell of a lot better than me in the friend, and boyfriend, category so you’re not likely to be coming back around to-”

Train of thought shearing right off the tracks as Sam bit the words right from him in a rough kiss that was mostly teeth and stubble.

It was over a second later, but Nick was still reeling, breathless and shaking.

“For once, can you please shut up.” Sam was still holding him by the shoulders, thumbs notching just below his collar bones. “Maybe just show me how much you’re going to miss me instead.”

Nick might have managed some kind of unintelligible whimper, words all together lost to him.

Frustration crossed over Sam’s features and he rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Oh, god damn it, Nick. Do you want your fucking goodbye kiss or not?”

Such a question.

“I… didn’t think you were going to say yes.” Not in a million years. This was Sam, and Nick hadn’t been lying- Sam really could do better. Easily. For god’s sake, he’d be better off with Gabriel than with Nick. And that was possibly the most insane thought that he’d had all night.

“I’ve got to go.” Sam was shaking his head, talking to himself, already turning away.

“I need you to stay.” Nick said a bit too quickly.

Sam just sighed, folding his arms over his chest and managing to look rather imposing. “I don’t want to do this, Nick. It’s not funny anymore.”

Ah. There it was. An impressive killing blow.

“It’s not even slightly funny.” His voice broke and that was just fantastic. “I- oh god. Alright, you know what? This would be a hell of a lot easier if I wasn’t so damn sober.” Nick ran a shaking hand over his face, regretting his choices tonight. He’d had it all planned out and, like always, he’d found a beautiful way around those plans. Everything falling apart.  “Sam… I- I want to do bad things to you.”

It was the most honest that he’d been with himself in months.

“You’re already the worst thing that’s ever happened to me- I don’t see how you could make it worse.”

Nick felt like his strings had been cut. Useless, just going ragdoll limp and looking up at the ceiling. Why had he thought that he could do this? Why did he think that this one time he’d manage something that had been so far beyond his grasp for months.  

“This is ...actually going pretty much the exact way that I thought it would.” He informed the ceiling, which had never once given him any help at all.

“You thought I would make a complete ass of myself by kissing you again?”

“Jesus Fucking Christ. NO. I mean… I always kind of hoped you would, but I’m a realist and you’re way out of my league… and straight… and … and why are you looking at me like that?”

Like for all the world that Nick had suddenly started speaking in tongues. This wild, confused expression.  This was all news to Sam? How could he not know this? These were simple facts that should have been obvious to anyone at all who had met either of them.

Nick just kind of shrugged- not sure what else to do at this point.

But then Sam got this strange little smile, left side of his mouth hooking up in an odd, confused kind of smile- which didn’t help to ease any of the strange tension.

“Nick… do you want your goodbye kiss or not?” Kind of whispered, oddly anticipating.

And well, even if he had wanted to, Nick couldn’t have turned down such an offer. Taking a measured breath, gathering up what had to be the last reserves of his courage, he placed his hands over Sam’s shoulders. Broad, strong shoulders. Muscles firm beneath Nick’s fingers. Skin so warm as his fingers slipped up the chords of the younger man’s neck, tangling in his hair.  

It was so much simpler than it should have been to pull Sam down those last few little inches needed for their lips to meet, and Nick wished that he wasn’t so nervous about it.

It was a kiss… just a kiss. He’d done it before. He’d even done it with this guy right here before.

Having permission just made it weird.

Nerve wracking. This was his only chance. His last one. He couldn’t screw it up like he’d done each and every time before. Only this time he had no idea where to start.

He was a starving man, he’d found himself a buffet, and wasn’t brave enough to pick what his first bite would be.

“...please?” Sam’s breath ghosted over his lips, eyes closing.

So Nick kissed him. Nothing all that romantic, or special, or even all that good. But it was a first attempt. It got better. Rather quickly.

Sam’s clumsy hands finding his hips, pulling the more interesting parts of their anatomy together as he moaned, completely shameless and utterly perfect. Nick had thought that he was leading this particular dance- but obviously not- and this was more than ok with him surprisingly.  Needy kind of friction, curious and eager and not even halfway near gentle and all Nick could manage was to grin between kisses.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love writing about these guys. I talk about taking a break afterwards and writing finishing up some 'real stories' that I have on my hard drive, but I honestly don't know if I can bring myself to not write just copious amounts of samifer. Just... you know, for forever. and ever.  
> I may have 2 or 3 partially written ones sitting in a folder already somewhere.   
> oh well.  
> Have another little chapter.   
> Just a short one.   
> Happy little one after this. I needed to write about some gross, cuddly man dates that these fools went on.

Waking up was one of Nick’s least favorite activities. Especially not to jarring things like alarms, or ringing phones. He could control the first part by simply setting his own work hours, nice nocturnal schedule that he’d worked out for himself over the years, waking up slowly when his body was ready to- like the good lord had intended.

He had a lot less say over people calling him though.

At first he thought that it must be Sam’s phone going off, the wildly unfamiliar ringtone playing through the little apartment. He half sat up, pushing to his elbows and taking a stunned moment to just look down at the man in his bed. The rather bare and sleep rumpled, slightly bruised man who had stolen his pillow and still had an arm around his waist.

His own sore body reminded him exactly why he was so fortunate as to have such a glorious sight taking up most of his bed with long warm limbs and not an ounce of decency or apology. Nick kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth and was rewarded with a sleepy little smile as the man rolled over, almost taking Nick with him. But Nick could see that it was his own phone ringing angrily at him from the dresser top where he’d left it yesterday afternoon so it wouldn’t interrupt the carefully planned evening.

“Just a sec.” He kissed Sam’s shoulder and grinned to himself as he rolled out of bed, breath punched from his lungs at the staggering cold of the apartment. Apparently in all the excitement he’d forgotten to turn the heater on last night. But… there had been slightly more important things going on at that time.

With his brain slowly waking, he realized that he recognized the song for his ringtone. He had no recollection whatsoever in setting ‘99 Problems’ as anyone’s ringtone but as he picked up his phone and squinted at the display and saw the name ‘freaking Glenn Close psycho-ex’ he realized that Gabriel must had updated some of his contacts for him. How nice of his brother.

Reluctantly he hit the little green button. “Yeah?” Soft voice, and not just because he really didn’t want to have whatever conversation was waiting for him- but because Sam was just a few feet away, cocooning himself deeper down into all those blankets.

Lilith always had such a delicate way of speaking. “The fuck, Nick? - why haven’t you signed the god damned paperwork yet?”

So it was going to be one of those conversations.

He grabbed a pair of boxers off the chair in the corner of his room piled with clean clothes that he was never going to get put away- and shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“What paperwork?”  Pulling on his boxers would have been easier if he wasn’t so sore in such delicate places- but he wasn’t going to have whatever conversation this was naked.

“Don’t you play cute, you son of a bitch. We’re leaving in less than a month and I need the passport paperwork signed off. Then my lawyer calls to tell me that you’re refusing to sign.”

Nick rubbed at his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Lilith made a furious little noise into the phone. So familiar in physically painful ways.

“June’s passport paperwork. It has to be signed by both parents.”

What a horrible thing to say to a man. Especially before he’s had any coffee. “She doesn’t need a passport… she’s not going anywhere.”

“Don’t do this, Nick. I am taking her with me. And if you don’t sign then I will get a court order.” Which was a lot more reasonable than Lilith usual was with him, even if it was said in what Gabriel always called her ‘hold my hoops’ voice.

“I never saw any damn paperwork. Why does she need a passport?” Nick returned with the same less than gentle tone.

“Because I’m getting married. And then I’m going to Spain, because he has money unlike other people, and I’m taking my daughter with me so she can get some damn culture.”

Nick looked at his phone skeptically. “Are you telling me that there is actually another man who’s dumb enough to agree to marry you?”

“I don’t need your passive agressive bull. You not signing isn’t going to mean that I’ll leave her with you. Fucking sign the paperwork, Nick.”

“I never even saw your damn paperwork.”

“My lawyer sent it to you almost a month ago.”

And that’s where the breakdown in communication was coming from. “Your lawyer must have sent them to Gabe, I never got ‘em.”

That horrible growling sound again. All kinds of disapproval and aggression that hit Nick like a physical blow. He could feel his shoulders getting tight and his stomach souring. He and Lilith were only ever good at two things. Having sex and fighting. And there had always been a lot of crossover between the activities. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Oh my god. Your fucking brother. I swear, Nick. He does this to me on purpose.”

“You did hit his wife with a shoe.” He reminded with only a moderate amount of spite.

“That middle east, terrorist, man-stealing bitch called me a whore.”

And see, Nick had grown up a lot over the past few years, because despite the fact that he was almost positive that his ex did actually take money from men in exchange for sex- he didn’t point it out to her.

Old dogs and new tricks and all that. He was so proud of himself.

“Just send June to your mom’s until you get back from your nasty honeymoon.” Tahoe was a hell of a lot closer and didn’t require legal documentation of immigration.

The line got real quiet for a few heartbeats. “He’s from Spain, you know. His name’s Marco and he wants us to come visit so we can look at schools out there for June.”

As stupid as it sounded, Nick had always just assumed that there would come a point that he could magically get custody of his daughter, or at least visitation rights. Vegas wasn’t so far away. Just an hour or two by plane. Spain on the other hand was… it was a giant NEVER put between him and his child. He found himself suddenly choking on something very much like panic.

“Lilith, you can’t. It’s- that’s completely unfair to her.” By which he meant that it was unfair to him. “You can’t just drag her to fucking Spain.”

“She’s not yours anymore, Nick. I can do whatever the hell I want with her.”

“You can’t treat her like she’s a stack of records that I left at your place when we broke up, Lil. She’s a child. She’s our child, and you can’t-”

“Nick, I’m not asking if it’s ok with you that I take my daughter- I’m telling you that I am, and I’m telling you to sign the fucking passport paperwork.”

“You fucking can’t do this, you bitch. I have rights and- don’t, god damn it, don’t hang up on me!” But she was gone. The line resonating with this quiet, dull noise. The panic in him had turned to something else far too quickly. And he’d never hit Lilith. Not even once, and right then he realized that if she was in the room with him he would have gone for it. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like these happy little moments, even if they're just super short and to the point. It's really cathartic to write a happy Nick. Just big dumb, happy man who for a little bit had everything than wanted.
> 
> expect a few more while I work on making the best ending that I can for the main story.

At some point Nick became aware that Sam had come out of the bedroom, giving him a fairly wide berth as he went into the kitchen and quietly got the coffee pot started. And the younger man didn’t ask what had happened, though he did glance at the battered corpse of a phone on the floor in the corner.

The strong scent of coffee filled the room and Nick took slow even lungfuls of air as he paced back and forth with a grim determination not to vent any of this well earned anger in Sam’s direction.

He couldn’t grasp hold of whole thoughts, they kept slipping away from him, just this tangled mess of bad feelings that completely negated all the good from last night. Which was highly unfair because he’d worked really hard to earn last night and felt that he deserved to sit and bask a little longer before real life came banging at the gates.

Sam cleared his throat and when Nick glanced over he saw two mugs on the counter and a hopeful look on the other man’s face.

He let out one last slow breath through his teeth and came over, giving a little nod in exchange for what would be his breakfast. He should have said thank you, but he didn’t trust himself to speak right then. So he went to the couch and folded himself down into the corner, knees tight to his chest.

He felt like a little kid, shaking because he was so angry, chest tight with the need to just yell. Back when he was small, when him and Michael would get into one of their fights about nothing in particular which always lead to blows in under two minutes, Dad would come and separate them into their own rooms and tell them to come out when they had calmed down. Gabriel would usually make both brothers some hot cocoa (regardless of what time of year or how hot it was outside) because it was the only thing that he knew how to make and he’d always labored under the belief that desserts of any kind could mend all ills.

This was coffee though.

And it was Sam, not Gabe, lurking somewhere in the back with worried hands.

It still helped. Something familiar and comforting in the simpleness of the gesture.

Nick pressed his forehead to his knees and gripped his warm cup against his ankles.

It would be ok, he reminded himself on repeat, close to actually believing the simple and obvious lie. The worst that could happen was that Lilith would take their daughter far, far away and Nick would just keep on not seeing her, just like he had been doing for the past nine years (with the exception of a few really good days a very long time ago). He couldn’t get this angry because things on his side of the world weren't actually changing.

Also, angry wasn’t going to help anything. Not right now at least.

All he had right now was Sam, and Sam couldn’t do anything about the demon exwife.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Nick asked carefully.

“Fine.” Sam said too quickly. “Just fine. How about you?” Neves in the little question quite audible. And Nick had no idea if it was because of last night or if it was because of this morning.

Nick looked over his shoulder and offered up a tight little smile. “Great. Just… bit of a rocky start this morning.” For once he decided that he wouldn’t do any self sabotaging, and just go ahead and safely assume that Sam’s discomfort was due to the broken phone and all the stomping around, and had nothing to do with the intimate and heavy nature of their last night.

He watched Sam look at the indent in the wall and the mechanical carnage below it, kind of nodding to himself. He set his mug down on the coffee table and held a hand out, wiggling his fingers at his… boyfriend.

Yeah…. Boyfriend. God, what a strange thought to have.

“Come here.”

Sam’s dimples showed as he grinned almost shyly and came closer, close enough that Nick was able to catch him by the bare hips, tugging him down to sit on the arm of the couch, the long warm line of his side pressing up against Nick’s.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He warned and he let his hands slide up Sam’s chest, slow, curious exploration, because he wasn’t being told no and it was still kind of new and exhilarating.

“Are you asking permission?”

“Does it look like I’m asking?” Even with the sass firmly in place, Nick raised a questioning brow, lacing his fingers behind Sam’s neck and slowly pulling him down, giving the younger man all the time in the world to say no if he wanted to. But he didn’t- because not everything could be going wrong at the same time. Sam kissed Nick back, grinning into the touch, chuckling warmly.

“Good morning.” Nick mumbled through the traditional greeting.

Which seemed to be the right thing to say, because Sam was kissing him again, big hands splayed out over Nick’s shoulders for balance so he wouldn’t just fall on him- not that Nick would mind such a thing. He would actually encourage falling and full body contact with this beautiful man at any point for any reason.

The slow, sleepy kisses got a bit distracted by tongue and teeth, but then Sam was pulling away and chuckling, heated breath ghosting over Nick’s mouth.

“Good morning.” The stunning young man got out, a little breathy, grinning like a man who’d just inherited Texas.

And it really would be a shame to just stop here, Nick decided, knotting his long fingers in Sam’s very soft hair. “Do you have to go to class?”

Sam’s grin wilted just a little, his eyebrows drawing low in consideration. “I probably should…” but he obviously changed his mind just a quickly because the kiss he gave Nick wasn’t anything like a goodbye. Two such lingering kisses later and Sam was just pushing Nick onto his back, crawling over him, delightfully inappropriate hands pawing at him through the too thin cloth of his boxers.

It really was a shame that they’d taken so long to get to this point.

Three months added up to many, many wasted mornings where they could have been doing this instead of a multitude of other, less worthwhile activities.

But pretty much everything seemed like a lesser use of his time when faced with the option of getting his legs around Sam’s hips and Sam kissing the inside curve of his knee while making all kinds of prolonged eye contact.

The less said about that the better though.

They got a few more miles out of the couch- and Sam no more gentle this morning than he had been the night before, which was by no stretch of the imagination to be considered a bad thing. No one had ever held Nick as tightly or kissed him as deeply as Sam did. Honestly, all that frantic passion from the night before had felt like a one off. A special sort of moment because it had been their first and it was brand new and exhilarating and so long forbidden to them.

Nick had apparently grossly underestimated how much Sam liked sex.

Just like he hadn’t anticipated the fact that Sam would have such a dirty mouth on him.

Neither of them lasted all that long.

And neither of them were interested in complaining afterwards.

Tucked close together, wallowing in some post-coital noncuddling that was very manly and not at all romantic or sweet, Sam plucked a little plastic bottle back up off the floor and set it on Nick’s chest with a soft laugh. Apparently he found it hilarious that there had been a bottle of lube under Nick’s sofa along with his tablet and violin and a handful of other things that he needed from time to time.

Nick chuckled, amused by how low and sleepy his own voice was.  “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by your good planning,” Sam’s mouth was hot against his shoulder, hard line of his teeth a pleasant little surprise, “or if I should feel embarrassed for you because you obviously have no shame whatsoever.”

Both were fairly true, but neither the truth. “I am a man, who is single, and lives alone. If I like to watch porn on my couch that’s my own business.”

Sam laughed, a startled, free sort of sound before he hid his face against Nick’s chest. “You’re the worst… and not single anymore.”

Which was a glorious fact that still didn’t sound true in the slightest. When Nick didn’t reply to the brilliantly beautiful statement, Sam glanced up, his gaze a bit uncertain until he saw Nick’s grin, and then the younger man was laughing again.

Nick pushed hair from Sam’s face, letting his thumb follow the heavy line of his brow. “What?”

“You look so damn pleased with yourself.” Sam chided like it was a bad thing.

Even without a mirror for validation to such an accusation, Nick knew that Sam had to be right. “Look, I’m just happy to be here. I don’t need to know why you’re willing to put up with me.”

Sam gave his hip a squeeze that was actually fairly painful, fingers settling into the nice bruises that he’d given Nick the night before. “Sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like yourself all that much.”

Nick shrugged and stretched, settling in a little deeper, enjoying the weight of the other man on top of him. It wasn’t an answer, but that in itself was probably enough.

With a little sigh, Sam kissed the underside of his jaw. “We’ll work on.”

“Work on it?” He repeated dumbly.

“Yup. But for now I’ll just like you enough for both of us.”

And it was stupid. Really, really it was. But Nick honestly wasn’t even sure if any of his own family actually liked him. He slipped his arms more firmly around the younger man’s shoulders in what could have easily been mistaken as a hug, and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m ok with this.” He decided out loud.

Sam just laughed into his neck. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just... I really love writing.   
> Especially Nick and Gabriel's interactions. It's my happy place.  
> Can my next story be about them when they are teenagers and just absolutely awful human beings together?

Sam loved him.

He’d said the words, and up until this point Nick could literally count on one hand the number of people who he knew loved him. Two brothers. One sister-in-law. One niece. And one man named Dad. Sam’s little confession meant that Nick would need two hands to count all these people, and it made him far, far too happy. Stupidly happy. He grinned up at Sam and resisted the urge to ask him to say it again.

Which worked in his favor because it left Sam’s very capable mouth to give him a rather long and thorough goodbye kiss.

Kissing was most definitely something that Sam was more than averagely skilled at.  Unfortunately it was one of Nick favorite things to do, which meant that with their combined powers Sam was very likely never going to get home or to class or anything else other than naked again.

And such distractions were more than welcome in Nick humble opinion. Sam’s warm hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, holding him tighter, taking him apart piece by piece with these slow, clever, flicks of his tongue.

“Oh,” Gabriel suddenly gave the gentle reminder that he was still here, and apparently had a few feelings on the show that was not entirely being put on just for his benefit. “Can I get one of those too? I mean from either one of you- I’m not too picky.”

Nick pulled back enough to get a sharp breath to himself, just enough distance that he could watch the way that his thumb was idling toying with Sam’s lower lip. Good good. What a beautiful set of lips.

He flicked his eyes back towards his brother with an apologetic look to Sam. “That’s what Rehka said before she agreed to marry him.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own joke. “I’m not too picky.”

Sam’s laugh was all teeth and dimples and good, soft sounds before he leaned down and kissed Nick fast and hard as a slap to the mouth. And it’s not like Nick had any reason to say no, so just like that they were back where they started. Catching up on all those lost kisses that hadn’t been happening over the past few months.

But Gabriel apparently could only take so much of this because he was whining once more. “For the love of- my lunch is only an hour long.”

Sam grinned again and Nick couldn’t help but nip at him, hooked on the taste. He spoke to his brother without ever taking his mouth off his Sam. “Gabe, you own your own law firm, and I’ve seen you take three day long lunches before.” Which was his gentle way of saying that Gabriel could get out or just wait, because this was Nick’s apartment and Nick’s boyfriend and they weren't quite done saying goodby yet.

“Yeah, well- if this is going to take much longer can I at least crack a window so I don’t choke to death on you guys’ musk?”

Heh.

Musk.

Nick was still pleasantly drunk on their early morning sex and the buzz was better than any liquor he’d ever tried.

There were some quick tugs to his hips and for a moment Nick through that Sam was suggesting something else altogether, but no. The kid just wanted him away from the door. Oh well. To be fair there was no way that they could actually spend all day just feeling eachother up against various pieces of furniture. But it was a nice dream.

“Get yourself a new phone.” Sam ordered with a halfway serious expression before adding on the demand of “call me tonight.”

Such a phone call promised in those few words, Nick couldn’t resist a little grin and a wink, which sent Sam out the door with a laugh that could only mean bad things for Nick. Terrible things that he was looking forward to with a warm ach low in his gut.

“Wow,” Gabriel laughed in a way that was almost uncomfortable. “Is this normal for you guys? I mean, like, are you two always going at it like a pair of maddened warthogs?”

“Why are you here?” Nick asked instead, because as much as he’d love to, now did not actually feel like the right kind of time to talk about all the fantastic sex he suddenly had access to.

“Well, like I said before you guy started trying to swallow each other's tongues, I was on the phone with Lilith’s lawyer today-”

“Yeah, and I was on the phone with the queen bitch herself. What was that all about me signing off on some passport paperwork for June that they’d sent you?”

“Yeah- and you’re not going to wanna’ sign it. I was kind of hoping that she would change her mind. You know, like the poor schmuck that she’s bribed would get smart and call off the wedding or something- and we wouldn’t have to have this conversation. But I guess they are going through with it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, which would have meant almost nothing if it was anyone else, but this was Gabriel and that little agitated movement was as subtle as a gunshot. “And yeah, it doesn’t sound like a good thing. I mean, once Lilith takes her overseas you’re basically waving your parental rights, and that goes against whatever papa bear mentality you got for yourself- but you have to think about what’s best for June.”

“I… I fucking know.” Nick ran his hands through his hair, coming down kind of hard and fast. “I mean, what difference is it really going to make, right? It’s not like I’ve really got any rights in the first place, and I haven’t seen her in years. But… she’s my baby. I can’t. Even if I don’t have custody, I can’t just tell Lil to go ahead and steal her away forever. It feels too much like giving up.”

“Well…” Gabriel straightened the god awful tie he was wearing- which was even more of a warning that something wasn’t right. Gabriel didn’t do nervous well. At least not if you knew him. Horrible poker face that Nick had always kind of relied on, but now was more unsettling than anything else.  “Technically you do have joint custody but-”

“What?”

“I mean, the restraining order kind of gets in the way of you meeting up with the Psyco to trade June and she would just keep coming up with excuses and inconvenient little reasons why she couldn’t-”

Whatever happy that Nick had found was just gone at this point as he closed the distance between him and his brother and took the little jackass by the shirt collar and dragged him up to his tiptoes. “What do you mean I have joint custody?”

“You were sort of in jail for threatening the judge during the end of the hearing- and it wasn’t anything formal to begin with , just me and the other lawyer and I was just supposed to tell you the verdict- but come on, Luci. You were a mess. You couldn’t handle the arguments that were going to come from trying to figure out visitations, and me and Michael though-”

“You better chose those next words real careful.”

Gabriel smiled, because there was not a time known to man in which Gabriel could not smile, but there was some strain in his tone and he wouldn’t quite meet Nick’s gaze. “I grew up with you as my hero. But every hero’s got his kryptonite, and yours has always been that blonde nightmare and her hellish offspring.”  

“That is my baby you are talking about.”

“Nick…” Gabriel sighed and the look in his eyes was all kinds of pleading, begging to be understood. “Nick, she’s not. She never was. You’ve got to know when to let go, man. And you know, preferably not kill me in the process. That whole, don’t shoot the messenger thing applies double this time.”

In a keen mix of pain and disgust, Nick dropped his brother and turned away. It’s not like Gabriel was lying. In fact he was telling an awful lot more truth than normal today. But that didn’t mean that NIck was required to accept it with any kind of dignity or grace.

“I won’t do it.” He forced out.

“Come on. She’s going to get a court order if you don’t. As your lawyer I’m advising you to sign the papers and spare us all the drama.” And you know that you’re in trouble when Gabriel has become the sound voice of logic and reason in your life.

“She can go and get her court order. I… if you had a kid of your own you’d understand.”

“I do have a kid- his name is Nick. He’s twice my size, but he can’t take care of himself for fuck all.” Gabriel sighed deeply once more. “Your life is just a series of bad choices. For once don’t make it worse. They’re leaving. You can’t change that by not signing. All you can do is put if off for a few more weeks.”

“Then I’m putting it off.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes to the ceiling, begging a higher power for help with this one. “Of course you are. You know if I wasn’t your brother I wouldn’t be your lawyer either. You’re the kind of client that gives good men ulcers.”

Good men?

“Then what do I give people like you?”

Gabriel’s smile came back in full force, but this time a bit more crooked than anticipated as he thought of a god answer to such a beautifully open ended question.

“They give us goodbye kisses that don’t know when to stop, if your earlier demonstration was any indication.”

And that roused up the memory of a smile from Nick. The fact that Gabriel was trying to pass himself off as a good man,  even half as good as Sam was positively hilarious. “I’m not apologizing for that. No one made you stand a watch.”

Gabriel winked, showing a bit too much teeth- it must have been a familial trait. A common expression that they all shared. “It was an honor and a privilege to watch you work.”

“Yeah I bet it was, you kinky little pervert.” He ran his hands through his hair again and sat on the arm of the couch, too riled up to really smile or relax, but at the same time too high on pleasent brain chemicals to let himself sink down too far into that dark unpleasant place that felt so much like home.

Digging in the inner pocket of his jacket, Gabriel pulled out a set of neatly folded papers and laid them on the counter- undoubtedly the papers that Nick was refusing to sign, but that was neither here nor there.

“That’s quite the set of bite marked you got there.” He said as a way of distraction, nodding to Nick’s neck and shoulder area.

And mind you, he hadn’t really checked it for himself, but Sam was surprisingly bitey and Nick would not be at all shocked to find himself all kinds of black and blue.

“He’s good for you, you know?” Gabriel said softly. “Good kid. Makes you happy. You should consider hanging on to him.” And the words weren’t there- but Nick could hear them anyways. Let June go. Focus on what you do have for once. Be happy, damn it.

If only life were that easy. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say that there was a point to this chapter.   
> Honestly, the whole thing was a lead up to those last few paragraphs, which once I got there I hesitated to keep. But hey, you all wanted a bit more detail to go with 'the incident on the stairs' that Sam was so embarrassed by... right?  
> We all feel awkward about it now. 
> 
> Great.
> 
>  
> 
> Really, I just wanted another excuse to write stupid boys being the good kind of (happy)stupid before I have to get back to the real story.  
> But I can't put it off forever, can I?

“It’s Saturday for fuck’s sake.” Nick moaned as Sam turned on the little lamp beside his bed.

“And I’ve got things to do.” He yawned around his smile, sitting up on his elbows and blinking wildly into the overly bright light. “You can stay here.” Sam kind of apologized, seeming to come to his senses and acknowledge that it was not even eight o’clock in the AM and way too early for this kind of crap.

It was a tempting offer. All these soft, warm blankets that smelled like Sam. Sam’s pillow all to himself. Nick burrowed deeper into the nest of warmth, kind of wishing that he’d bothered to get at least partially dressed before falling asleep a few hours ago- but at the same time rather pleased that Sam hadn’t either because it meant that he got a front row seat to watch the younger man crawl his bare ass out of bed and get dressed.

And Nick had never, not even once considered himself gay, or really even remotely attracted to men, but hot damn.

Sam seemed to be aware of his audience as he glanced over his shoulder with a crooked smile. “You’re such a creep sometimes.” Said in the most affectionate way possible.

“You like it.” He reminded from his almost face down position, half muffled, but not enough to mask his words or apparently his hungry leering.

Sam buttoned up his jeans and pulled a t-shirt on over his head before leaning back over the bed to plant a soft kiss to the side of Nick’s throat. “You think you’ll be awake in about an hour? I can make you some coffee when you come down.”

Nick rolled slowly, stretching, popping his shoulders as he reached out and got a hand on either of Sam’s cheeks, rough stubble hiding his sweet, boyish face. “My mooseman.” A small, passing kiss with only a hint of tongue and Sam smiled against his mouth. “You are a monster.” Nick reminded him.

“You want that coffee when you come down or no?”

“You’ve got to give me at least two more hours.” On a normal morning Nick would have struggled his way up out of his comfy confines to trail after Sam, despite the ungodly hours that the younger man insisted on keeping. But he’d been late at work last night and whereas he should have gone straight to sleep when he got to Sam’s place they had ended up fooling around (like usual) which had lead to other, more exciting things (like usual) and Nick seemed to always bear the brunt of the morning after soreness that went along with such evenings. Which was not a complaint or criticism of their relationship. Not by any means. It was simply a fact. Might have had something to do with Sam being almost a decade younger. It made him more… resilient.

“Two more hours.” Sam agreed, turning his face to kiss one of Nick’s palms.

“ ‘s ok if I get a shower before I come down?”

“Sure. I’ll warn Dean that you’re here and possibly wandering the halls naked.”

Nick snorted and rolled back over. “You do that.”

Surprisingly, Sam smacked his ass good and hard before turning back out the light and thumping off down the stairs, the sound of his footsteps fading long before the sharp sting Nick felt in his backside. He fell back asleep with a grin on his face.

He only got about an hours worth of sleep more in any case. Apparently Dean was still home, must not be working today, because ACDC was playing rather loudly and there are something that you just can’t easily sleep through.

He got his shower and then back into his clothes from the day before, which smelled vaguely of rubbing alcohol from work, what that just how things go sometimes.  

Sam was right where Sam belonged, tucked up to the table, nose deep in his text books. He glanced up when Nick came in and gave him a brilliant smile. “Sorry. I told Dean you were sleeping but he only turned the music up.”

Nick shrugged it off, rubbing one eye. “It’s his house. He can do what he wants.”

“How benevolent of you.”

“Don’t you go using those kind of words on me before I’ve had my coffee, you overly literate jerk.”

Sam just grinned and got up, going to the coffee maker and turning it on like the charitable, hedonistic god that he was. “You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to seeing you during the ‘morning after’ phase.”

Nick looked down at himself rather critically. But he’d showered and it’s not like he had sex all over his clothes or anything. “Shame or guilt?” He was more curious than anything else and it was still too early for complicated thoughts.

With a soft laugh that was almost lost under the baseline of the music in the other room, Sam came over to Nick and caught up two handfuls of his shirt, the fabric pulled tight along his sides. “Worse than that.” He confessed. “I think it’s pride.”

Nick felt doubtful and it must have shower on his face because Sam leaned in and bit his mouth, not quite a kiss, but that was ok. “Terrifying man that you are, and last night you were all mine.”

“I still am.” Nick thought it strange how serious his own voice sounded, earnest disclosure, not wanting there to be any confusion.

Sam slid his arms around Nick’s waist, so warm and solid and close. “And you were begging for it.”

“I never beg, Mister Winchester.” He looped his arms around around Sam’s stupidly broad shoulders in a lazy kind of circle, letting his hands dangle loosely.

“You were last night.”

Their foreheads met and it was still novel that they were practically the same height. Those gorgeous eyes of Sam’s all lidded and as welcoming as his lips.

“That’s not how I remember it going at all.” Nick smiled, still not sure how he ended up here- a place like this was too good for someone like him. “You were the one going ‘oh. God. Slower…. please, Nick. fuck. uhng.’ All hot and panting and you couldn’t keep your damn hands off me.”

“I do not sound like that.” Sam argued with a laugh.

“Well mostly it’s just moaning, but I know how to read between the lines.” He promised with a little kiss.

“Dude!” Dean interrupted them rather loudly, in that way that both their brothers were all so very skilled at doing. “Not in my kitchen. And no slow dancing to ACDC. What the hell is wrong with you two?”

Sam ducked his head, hiding his face against Nick’s neck, breath hot as he tried his damndest to pretend that he wasn’t laughing.

“Morning.” Nick nodded to the older Winchester who was looking sullen in the doorway.

“Seriously,” Dean gestured broadly at the two of them, no humor whatsoever. “I eat in here and you guys are making me sick.”

“It’s my kitchen too.” Sam disengaged, leaving Nick feeling a bit chilled in the early morning with his bare feet on the linoleum and no human space heater in his arms.

“It’s off limits, Sammy.” Dean argued, getting down a mug and pouring himself some of the coffee that was supposed to be Nick’s. “Just like the couch… and my car.”

“And the hallway?” No apology in Sam, just a cheeky grin which his big brother did not seem to appreciate. But in Dean’s defence, over the past few days he had caught the two of them in quite a few compromising positions in almost every room in the house other than Dean’s own bedroom. But give it time. They would get there.

“Oh, or on the table.” Nick reminded.

“Or  the shower,” Sam added with a grin.

“Don’t think I’m not keeping a list, you smart asses.”

“Yeah. You make that list.” Sam pulled down another mug and poured the remainder of the coffee into it before getting the milk from the fridge. “I will get a nice frame for it and we can hang it by the door.”

Dean just gave them both an equally weighted glare that said ‘don’t give me your sass’. But he hadn’t been all that amused by the extension on their relationship in the first place. He’d been positively hostile with Nick, leaving no room for doubt on his feelings towards the man who was dating his baby brother. The best part of it all was that Sam didn’t seem to give a single good goddamn what Dean thought on the matter.

After roughly thirty seconds worth of high level glaring Dean finally crossed his arms over his chest and honed in on Nick. “I can’t keep you out because apparently Sam will just keep letting you in- but seriously, knock it off with the loud sex at three in the morning. You’ve got your own place. Take him there.”

Nick took the coffee that Sam passed him, warming his hands on the dark mug. “We’ll try to keep it down next time.”

“No. No next time.” Dean groaned in exasperation. “Go to your place.”

Was now a good time to let everyone know that he’d already had a noise complaint from his own neighbors... and that’s kind of why he’d been coming over to Sam’s house the past few nights? It wasn’t that he really liked the people next door, but the walls were thin in his apartment, and he was a slightly respectful human.

...some times.

“We’re keeping it behind closed doors.” He pointed out. “It’s not going to get much better than that.”

Dean looked at Sam for some kind of support. They were brothers after all, and there should have been some kind of sympathy. But Sam just shrugged and nodded before sitting himself back down at the table.

Dean said simply and firmly, lest there be any confusing on his stance, “You both suck.”

“Eh,” Sam mumbled into his books, “that’s really more of Nick’s thing. He’s got the mouth for it.”

Which of course made Nick choke on his coffee.

Dean on the other hand made noises an awful lot like being ill. “There is such as over sharing, Sammy.”

From where Nick was standing he could see Sam’s grin, but the kid just hunched his shoulders a little more and pretended to be focused on his homework.

“I don’t need any more nightmare fuel here.” Dean curled his lip at the awful memories of the horrors that the past few days must have left him with.

In a stunning effort to find a little peace between the two of them (because if he had a choice then he was going to be with Sam for a very long time and the animosity between himself and Dean couldn’t go on forever) Nick offered an almost gentle, “we’ll try to keep it down.”

“Yeah- I’ll try to do the same with my coffee.”

Dean left them, his grumbling and curses against the two other men sort of drowned out under the music.

Nick watched him go, making sure that he was out of earshot before getting a hand on the back of Sam’s neck and lightly throttling him.   “You’re terrible.” He hissed in Sam’s ear. “I’ve got the mouth for it?”

“Hey now, isn’t that the first thing that you told Gabriel that we did- back on the Frisco trip?”

Which for some reason surprised Nick. Really, it was only a few months back, but the whole makeup of the world had changed between then and now. Everything, everything was different between them different and better and so much worse in ways… but Sam seemed to always remember the dumbest, most insignificant things that Nick said to him.

It was enough to make a guy feel important.

He tangled a hand in Sam’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to the spot behind his ear.

“You need to shave.” Sam said in an even tone, doing a fantastic job of ignoring Nick.

“I think I need to make good on all those lies I was telling about us.”

And from this close he could actually see the way that the blush rose up Sam’s throat and over his cheeks. It was fascinating.

“No, t-that’s alright.” Sam chuckled and pressed his shoulder up into Nick’s ribs.

“I mean… I’ve never tried it before, but I know how it’s done.” And he was fairly sure that he could replicate a few of the things that he’d enjoyed having done to him in the past. And really, it would be fantastic to take the opportunity to give the whole thing a try. “I’d love to get those legs of yours up over my shoulders and you can talk me through the finer points.”

“Oh, can I?” Sam was so red, but his grin was so wide.

“Well, yeah.” He ran a finger along the collar of Sam’s shirt, grazing flesh and watching the younger man shiver just a bit.

But Sam very firmly kept his eyes on his books. “I’ve- uh, got no basis for comparison on this one. I don’t think I’d be that much help.”

That gave Nick a moment of pause, his grip on Sam’s hair loosening. “Wait… are you serious?”

As someone who got his first blowjob at the ripe aren impressionable age of sixteen, Nick found the news that someone could, or would even want to make it into their early twenties skipping out on such a fun activity.

“It never came up.” Sam said in a clipped tone. Not angry, but obviously kind of embarrassed and not wanting to talk about it.

“Oh, darlin’,” Nick felt almost giddy at the offer he was making, “if you want we can fix that little oversight right now.”

Sam bit his lower lip and swallowed down a smile. “I’ve got homework to do.”

“That is a weak excuse, Mister Winchester.” Nick slid his hands over Sam’s shoulders and then took hold of the back of his chair, pulling him away from the table. “Now, what I see here is a crime. A damn crime and a shame that no one’s gone down on someone as fine as you.”

But Sam just laughed, reckless and a bit wild, glancing up at Nick and then away again. “Nick, it’s too early for this. You can’t just- just proposition me and,”

“Why can’t I?” If there were some rules that Nick didn’t know about he’d really like to get caught up. “I mean, I figured that since we’ve spent the better part of this last week going at it like we were training for the porn olympics that everything else was kind of open for discussion.”

Sam laughed again, all kinds of grinning and dimples and a look that went right through Nick and settled somewhere deep and warm within. But it wasn’t an answer. Nick didn’t even have the first guess as to what exactly he was supposed to take away from a laugh like that.

So he kissed Sam.

He was rather good at it after all.

Slow thorough kisses from an odd angle, because Sam was still sitting and Nick looming over him.

“I’m leaving.” Dean announced from the other end of the house, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “You’re welcome. Just keep the sex to the bedroom for once. Fucking animals.”

And, in all fairness and respect to Dean and his unreasonable wishes, there was some vague attempt to get back up to Sam’s room.

Only they got distracted halfway up the stairs. Nick would take the blame for it. But really, now. How was he supposed to behave when Sam was walking in front of him with an ass like that?

No one would blame him.

Sam certainly didn’t have any complaints.

A few chaotic minutes later saw the younger man with his jean and boxers tugged down around his thighs, rough handfuls of Nick’s hair, arching up off the stairs as he mouthed all kinds of inarticulate, but rather encouraging words.

As first times for such things went, they both did surprisingly well.

The fact that at some point Nick became aware of a horror stricken looking Dean standing up at the top of the stairs, looking down at them like a deer in headlights, didn’t actually take away from the whole experience. However, that might have been because Nick had brothers of his own and he knew how to deal with a sudden and rather unwanted audience.

The solution was an easy one. Uncomfortable eye contact until the man silently back off down the hall, undoubtedly to go wash his eyes.

Later, other than the slight bruising around his mouth that came out vibrantly as the day wore on, Nick counted the whole morning as a glowing success.

Most mornings spent with Sam were.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of a longer chapter that I had to break up, but I think you guys now me well enough by now to know that every chapter that I've ever written has gotten away from me and ended up longer than I intended.   
> Hopefully I will get more of this up in the next few days as I make a desperate attempt to get this little side story caught up with the main one so that I can finish the (hopefully) last chapter of The Boy Who.   
> I want to be done with this by New Years.  
>  Fingers crossed.

It was very possible that Nick had a bit of a masochistic streak in him. There was definitely something that welcomed this hell that he kept putting himself though. Otherwise why did he keep doing it?

“Unless you are calling me to say you signed the damn paperwork, you can go fuck yourself.”

“Hello, Lilith.”

“Really? You want to do this?”

“All I said was hello.” He’d honestly tried to come into this one from as neutral of a stance as he could.

From a state away, he could hear the woman rolling her eyes. “I don’t want your damn hellos, Nicky. I want to get my daughter’s passport in order.”

“I’ve been thinking about it” almost all the time, “and seeing as I have joint custody,” a little fact that he still hadn’t injured Gabriel for omitting, “I think it would be in June’s best interest to stay here in the states.”

“With you?” She laughed, blatantly ignoring the logic in his well thought out and even more well rehearsed offer.

“Yes with me. You know I can take care of her. Go get married, move to fucking Guam for all I care. But don’t drag June halfway across the world just to spite me.”

“You always take these things so god damned personal. You ever stop to think that I’m taking her with me because she’s my daugher and I love her?”

Honestly? No. He’d known this woman since he was a kid and he still clearly remembered the day that she insisted that they play baseball with the floursack baby that they’d been given to take care of in health class. White clouds of carnage had covered the backyard. Which, granted, it had just been a stupid assignment. But a few years later when Anna had popped out her first kid, Lilith never got that dreamy eyed look that most girls get when confronted with babies. She hadn’t even wanted to hold Isaac. In fact she’d leaned into Nick and whispered to him how glad she was that that little screaming rat-puke hadn’t come out of her.

“You don’t have a maternal bone in your body, Lil.”

She laughed. Actually laughed, because they both knew it was true. It was the first time that Nick had heard he do so in years, and he found that it didn’t cast the same kind of spell on him that it used to.

“But I do have your child support coming in, as well as the money that Michael is paying me to stay the fuck away from you. Now why would I want to mess that up?”

Nick leaned against his kitchen counter, angry, but oddly relieved that it could all boil down to something so simple.

The line got quiet as he fought down a headache, not really knowing what to say. It’s not like he’d been expecting her to just agree to give him June, but he’d kind of been hoping that it could be the start of some serious bargaining.

“Forty-eight thousand.”

He couldn’t have heard that right. “Excuse me?”

“Your brother gives me six thousand a year. So between now and when she turns eighteen, I get forty-eight thousand for June. You willing to match that, Nicky?”

He looked at the phone, not sure that the offer was real. Because who honestly offers to sell their child? For any amount of money?

But this was Lilith. .

“I… I’ll keep paying the child support.” He already gave the woman six hundred bucks a month, in the long run it would equal out to more than what she was asking.

She laughed again. “You can have her, and I can have the child support and the forty-eight thousand.”

“Fuck, Lil. You know I don’t have that kind of money.”

“That’s my offer, you bastard. You don’t want it- then sign the paperwork like I told you to do two weeks ago.”

“Didn’t you say that the guy you’re marrying is loaded?”

“He is, but a girl’s gotta have her play money, and I like the idea of really sticking it to you any way I fucking can.”

And he found himself asking a question even though he already knew the answer. But he was tired. “How can you be this big of a bitch?”

“It’s just about as easy as it will be to call my lawyer tomorrow and get that court order. Now, I’ve got to go pick my sweet baby girl up from softball practice. You go ahead a give me a call if you change your mind.” And she just hung up.

Nick let go of the counter, sinking all the way down to the floor and pressing his head to his knees. He wondered if he could guilt Gabriel into giving him the money. He wondered if his brother even had that kind of money laying around- considering that despite him being a rather successful lawyer, his wife still made more than him. And Rehka, bless her beautiful, exotic heart, she was part of the club that firmly believed that Nick should never have had a child to begin with.

It wasn’t fair, and life seldom was. But all that Nick could really think was that he’d picked a hell of a time to give up drinking- because right now that is what he needed more than anything else.

There came a knocking to his door. And, yeah, not as good as a drink. But he wasn’t in a good position to really be all that picky at this point in his life.

“It’s unlocked.” He called as he started to drag himself to his feet.

Sam let himself in, big open smile when he saw Nick rising up from the kitchen floor like some hollow eyed sea monster.

“I got us Chinese food.” He set the bag of little takeout boxes on the counter before stealing a kiss. “You doing ok?” He asked, the spark of warmth going right out of his eyes, traded for concern.

Nick smothered down all the things he was feeling with a smile that was mostly for show, realized that there was no way that Sam was going to buy it, and settled for another kiss instead.  “I will be once I get some food in me.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Sam hit the bag with the back of his hand, giving Nick a smile that bordered on sympathetic, but the guy didn’t ask what was wrong. He never did. Like if they could both just ignore it then it might just fix itself or simply go away.

“I’ll get some plates.”

“We’re not just going to eat out of the boxes like we normally do?- not that I’m complaining.”

Nick rolled his eyes at the criticism and tucked his phone away into a pocket before going to the cupboard.

“Um… what’s this?”

Nick looked over his shoulder to see Sam examining a scrap of paper tacked onto the fridge with a nifty little magnet shaped like a unicorn- though it was hard to tell under the muddy mix of pink paint and glitter that his niece had slapped on before giving it to him.

“It’s, uh- cease and desist order from the girl who lives in next door.” Nick tried to keep his tone even and unamused as he fished around for some matching dishes.

“Hey, four-eleven. It’s great that you got yourself a smoking hot boyfriend, but do you have to fuck him every single night?” Sam read aloud, his eyebrows high as he laughed his way through the very polite letter. “I’m not saying this because you’re a gay couple. I wouldn’t care if you were flying purple dinosaurs. In fact, I’m a huge gay-rights supporter. But seriously, every night? It’s awesome that you have such a healthy sex life, but I don’t want to hear it. I work long hours and coming home late at night only to be woken up by what seems to be an exorcism- if all the screaming and begging is anything to go off of- is not my idea of relaxing. Don’t stop by any means, but please try and keep it down. Please… besides that you are delightful neighbors and seem awesome if your music is anything to go by. Sincerely, four-thirteen.”

Nick divied up the chinese food, biting his lip to mask his amusement.

“...why are you keeping it on the fridge?”

“I’m starting a scrapbook.” He said easily.

Sam snorted softly as he straightened the note, smoothing down the edges. “We aren’t that loud… are we?”

“You know we are.” Nick set the plates down at the table.

“I-” Sam shook his head and came over, sitting down in his usual chair. His smile was one of those beautifully dangerous ones that he typically reserved for when Nick was in real trouble.

It went a long way to lightening Nick’s mood and he found himself smiling a little more honestly.

Sam stabbed up a forkful of his awful steamed vegetables. “Maybe you are, but I’m a gentleman in bed. Very respectful, and reserved.”

Which was ridiculous enough that it actually got Nick laughing. “Darlin’, it’s like… eighty percent you.”

Sam kicked him under the table and ate his food.

It wasn’t a subject worth arguing over. There would be no winners. Instead they made a good attempt, after dinner, at the quietest sex possible. It was maddening, and honestly, Nick though that even their restrained moans got a bit too loud at a certain point.  

The heavy panting afterwards wasn’t exactly quiet either- though it also went a very long way towards making Nick forget about earlier.

It was almost like he had a good thing going for him that stood some chance of actually overshadowing all the awful problems that he kept making for himself.

Sam’s mouth was hot against the back of his neck as the two of they laid in a tangle of limbs and sheets. “Did I win?”

But Nick’s brain was a bit slower and everything was just this hazy warm glow while he struggled to make sense of the words.

“What did you win, darlin’?”

Teeth grazed the muscles of his shoulder. “Everything?”

“Whatever you want.” Nick promised sleepily.

The arm around his waist tightened. “You’re useless afterwards. You know that?”

He just hummed happily, settling deeper into the very welcoming, but almost overwhelming heat that Sam always seemed to radiate.

Sam must have chuckled. Nick could feel the rumble where the younger man’s chest was pressed to his back. “Go to sleep, old man.”

“No.” He kicked his feet just a little, shaking them free of the blankets.

“No?”

“No. ‘Old man’ is the worst pet name.”

“Pooky?”

“...ok. That’s a bit worse.”

“Sugar?”

“Don’t make me throttle you.”

“... poundcake?”

Nick did his best not to laugh because this was serious business here.

He could actually hear the grin in Sam’s voice as he said, “Yeah. I’m going with poundcake.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“My big… strong… poundcake.”

Not that there was really any dignity left to defend at this point, but pretences and all- so Nick rolled like a ferocious crocodile and caught up his laughing boyfriend between his jaws, giving him a well earned thrashing.

Sam apparently didn’t feel like acknowledging the seriousness of it all though, because he just laughed and kissed back, knotting his fingers in Nick’s hair and showing no mercy.

“You fucking menace.” He hissed out as Sam let himself get pinned down- or at least something close to pinned, with his shoulders pressed down into the mattress and one knee sort of hooked around Nick’s hip.

Sam just grinned between kisses.

“Why do I keep inviting you over?”

A rather thoughtful look passed over Sam’s face, which was undermined by the way that his hair was a complete mess, and the curl of a smile on his dark, abused lips. “Because you love me?”

“No... it’s not that.”

Sam thought some more, his fingers dragging slowly down Nick’s neck and shoulders, following the lines of his tattoos where the patterns curled in the bend of his elbows. “Well, then it’s probably the promise of sex.”

Nick barked a laugh and shook his head.

God. He loved this man.

“And you’d miss me if I wasn’t here to say goodnight and tuck you in.”

True. “Then I guess the bad news is that if you came over with the intent to just say goodnight then we need to reassess just how terrible we both are at this.”

Sam’s hands slid back up to his shoulders, getting some odd kind of leverage and pulling Nick back down so that they could lay side by side again, face to face this time, all the better to see each other with.

“What are you talking about?” Sam scoffed and grabbed a handful of blankets, pulling them over Nick. “We’re amazing.”

“No. You’re amazing. I am a mess.”

Sam failed to give him a proper kiss, kind of coming up short and just clumsily pressing his lips to the corner of Nick’s mouth.

And they didn’t usually pull out the ‘I love you’ card for any reason other than teasing each other- mostly because they weren’t a pair of teenaged girls. They’d said it once with real intent. They knew that they meant it. It was enough.

And over the last two weeks Nick had found that there were many, many other ways to convey the same sentiment- and Sam seemed rather skilled at finding those ways.

“You are a mess.” He agreed a little too easily, smug little smile. “But you’re my mess.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, have another one. I made enough to go around.

His phone always seemed to be going off at the wrong times. The ‘this is when Nick should be sleeping’ times. He leaned out of bed, stretching one bare arm out into the cold, slapping around at the floor until he found where he’d dropped his jeans last night.

“What do you want, you little weasel?” He growled into the receiver. It’s not that he was really all that mad, it was just way too early to have any kind of voice other than a rough growl.

“Six in the morning and I’m getting a call from the devil woman’s lawyer with a court order, Nick.” Gabriel sighed. Way too early for either of them , apparently. “What I want is for you to live your life in a way that doesn’t wake me up in time to see the sunrise.”

He layed back in bed, very aware of Sam sprawled out, still asleep beside him.  “I really can’t talk about this right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Gabriel seethed into the phone. “Did I wake you up? How inconsiderate of me.”

“Kiss your wife and go back to bed.” Nick instructed firmly. “We can talk about this later.”

“Later? Oh, well when would be a better time for you, honey?”

“Just… just not right now.”

Gabriel sighed. Or maybe he yawned. “Ok. You are coming to Sarah’s Communion today.” Not actually a question.

“Shit. That was today?”

“It is, and you will be there and I am going to be there and we will have words. Strong words.”

“Yeah. Ok.”

“I do hate you.” Gabriel reminded softly, in an almost loving way.

Nick made a soft kissing noise into his phone before hanging it up, and gently dropping it back on the floor. It was too early to start making a list of things that he didn’t want to do today. He settled for putting an arm and a leg around Sam and settling back in.

“You got plans later?” Sam asked in a sleepy voice, lightly trailing one hand up Nick’s arm.

“Go back to sleep. It’s not important.”

“Sounded important.”

“Everything sounds important at six in the goddamned morning.” And this kind of, sort of, actually was fairly important- but he could put it off for a while longer. He still had a few hours until he had to start the drive up the coast and face his brother’s pint sized wrath.

He must have drifted back off to sleep, because when Sam started talking it startled him. Nick blinked sleepily, squinting over at the man sharing his pillow. “Run that by me again?”

“It’s just…” Sam clicked his teeth, jaw going tight for a moment as the stared up at the ceiling. “It’s still really weird waking up with a guy on top of me.” He glanced over without moving his head, the smallest smile hooking the edge of his mouth. “ ‘m not complaining. I guess I’ll get used to it eventually.”

Which was fair. There were still some mornings where Nick found himself in a half panic because there was a man curled up next to him and such things were still very foreign. “You think that’s weird? How about the fact that I’m never going to have sex with a woman again?” He yawned, turning his face into the pillow for a moment. “Significantly stranger in the scheme of things if you ask me.”

Sam turned his head to fully look at Nick, sleepy confusion darkening his eyes. “Did you decide at some point to just… go full gay or something?”

“No.” Nick chuckled. “God, no. But it’s just me and you now and… it’s just strange when you think about it... Like, if I’d known that the last woman I’d had sex with was going to be the last woman, then I would have…” The words sort of trailed off, because Sam was giving him such a concerning look that Nick got lost in what he had been trying to say. “What?”

Sam was doing that jaw clenching thing again, his dimples suddenly very notable. “ ‘s just me and you now?”

“What?” Nick felt himself frown just a bit, because yes, that was what he’d said. He didn’t think that it bore repeating. He didn’t see the big deal.

Without an answer at all, Sam just layed there watching him with this dastardly unreadable expression. And Nick looked at him very closely, his sharp nose and soft moth, the color in his cheeks, his eyelids flickering and unsure.

And then, without warning, Sam pounced.

His hands came up to hold Nick’s face, tilting his mouth up and kissing him over and over again, shattering airless kisses that left the older man stunned. Beyond speech or thought.

Sam curled around him, in the very same way that he did everything. With this unapologetic stubbornness.  Like no one else in the whole world knew the first thing about doing this right.

It’s just. It’s sure and it’s hot, Sam’s lip catching on his own. Sam’s tongue slicking in, and Nick gave over to it, pure instinct and sensation racing all through him. He kissed back, kind of moaning as he fell against Sam, frantic and suddenly unskilled, hands latching onto his hips.

Just like their first night, Sam’s rather determined  mouth never left his long enough to get as much as two words together, and anyways, what would Nick have said?

Half an hour later, laying there in this steamrolled sex-foq, Nick was fairly certain that he’d forgotten how to speak all together and it was for the better. He still had no idea what he’d said in the first place to set Sam off, and it was probably wise not to accidently repeat it until he’d had a bit of rest and maybe some breakfast.

Nick phone seemed to be going off again, and this time he chose to ignore it.

With a slowly casual pat pat to Nick’s stomach, Sam sat up, stretching his pale and slightly bruised body.

“Want me to get that?” He offered with a nod in the direction of the overly excited, muffled little ringing.

And Nick managed as much as an eyeroll which could pass as a shrug if someone wanted to read into it deep enough.

Sam half laid crosswise over him, with his bare ass up in the air, as he stretched down to the floor to fish up Nick’s still ringing phone.  

“ ‘s Anna.” Sam read off the caller ID.

Nick lightly shook his head, wanting that particular call to just go to voicemail. He wasn’t up for whatever sort of discussion that the phone was promising.

“Good morning.” Sam spoke into the receiver with a smile, still sprawled unabashedly over him. “No, Nick’s still sleeping. This is Sam.”

Which is not at all what Nick had meant, and the other man knew it. So he lightly smacked the unprotected backside and grinned when Sam jumped just a little, shocked expression in his wide eyes.

Sam did his best to cast a disapproving sort of look before settling the blankets around himself in some mocking stab at modesty. “A Communion?” He said in answer to whatever Anna was saying to him. “Yeah. I’ll make sure he remembers. What time- yeah. Yeah. Alright. Oh, you too.” Such a polite young man. “Bye.”

“I don’t want to go.” Nick rumbled the words out in a slow, sleepy breath.

The phone was slapped without any kind of gentleness onto Nick’s chest. “I was on the phone.”

“It was my phone.”

“Behave yourself when I’m on the phone, especially when it’s to your sister.”

“I didn’t know there were rules.” He slid a hand under the blankets and settled along the firm curve right below the base of Sam’s spine.

“You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“You always seemed to me the sort of person who can handle a bit of trouble.”

Sam’s hips hitched just a bit, pressing back into Nick’s hand. Mischievous glint to his gaze. “You’re supposed to be at your niece's Communion before noon. Anna said to remind you that you promised that you would come, and also that it's customary to bring a present, but she will be thrilled if you just manage to not get into a fight with anyone while you’re there.”

“So much faith they have in me.”

“To be fair,” Sam started rocking just a bit, insatiable and damning with his more than suggestive little movements. “I’ve never seen you get together with your family and not get in a fight.”

“Realy?”

“I’ve been paying attention.”

“No.” Nick lightly smacked that fine ass for a second time. “Not those jerks. This. This right here. Don’t you ever get tired?”

For the briefest of moments, Sam actually looked slightly embarrassed for the first time in recent memory. “Not yet.”

Nick made small circles with his thumb, following the tight line of muscles. “How am I supposed to keep up with you?”

“Mph… we’ll just have to work on it.”

“I’m old and tired. There’s nothing left to work on at this point.”

“Christ, Nick. You’re not that old.” And Sam sat up, adjusting carefully so that he was kneeling, straddling Nick’s thighs, the blankets just poolin around them, useless. He placed his hands low on Nick’s stomach, tracing patterns that only he knew. “And we will work on it… maybe tonight when you get back. I don’t have class too early tomorrow.”

And one day, Sam might actually be the death of him, but it probably wouldn’t be tonight, despite the promise in those long fingers of his that kept trailing slowly southward.

If nothing else, it sure would be one hell of a way to go.

“But that’s tonight.” Sam squeezed his hips. “And this morning you’re going go to see your family.”

“Aha, but I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” He reminded, even as Sam got off of him and walked down the hall.

“You can call me when you get back. Tell me all about how awful it was.” The man called before turning on the shower.

There was some unspoken invitation for Nick to come join him. From where he was stretched out on the bed, he could see that the bathroom door had been left open. But he was so very tired, and getting in the shower with Sam had never been anything even remotely close to restful and relaxing. So he waited it out. Moving just enough to find a handful of blankets and pull them warmly around himself, fighting back the early March chill.

Sam returned after almost too long, towel low on his hips, little plate of toast in one hand, two mugs of coffee in the other.

Nick stretched and grinned. “Aw, darlin’, you made breakfast.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn’t even try to hide his smile. He set down the simple meal and picked up a pair of jeans, which may have even been his own, and got at least half way dressed.

“When do you have to leave?”

Nick pushed himself half way up, snagging himself some toast, refusing to give an answer because it would only make the whole thing more final and he would rather ignore it for a little longer.

“I think the tablet’s around here somewhere. Your turn to pick something for us to watch.”

Sam rolled his eyes again, hard enough there was a risk that he might damage something, but he found the little computer and sat himself down against the headboard, pulling up Netflix and settling back in. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love writing brothers sassing each other, I hate writing brothers being mean to each other. 
> 
> oh well.   
> We're getting there.

“I can’t go to your niece’s Communion with you.” Sam pulled his shirt on over his head, hair a bit of a mess but no less serious looking. “I’m not even Catholic.”

“I’m not either.” Nick didn’t hesitate to point out, not wanting there to be any confusion on the matter.

Sam didn’t care. “But you’re her uncle.”

And Nick had also promised to go. But that didn’t mean that he had any intention of going without a fight, or by himself. “Ah, but when we get married, you’ll be her aunt, so I don’t see the problem.”

Sam laughed instead of finding his shoes.”Oh my god. Nick. No.”

“No you’re not coming… or no we’re not…” Because all joking aside, Nick wouldn’t mind a bit of foreknowledge on that one. You know… just in case he ever wanted to ask.

Sam’s hands were so warm on his cheeks as he gently cradled Nick’s face in a way that was almost not condescending and terrible. “Just NO.” Firm, despite his smile, or the light kiss that Nick didn’t have time to return before it was over. “Go on, you’re going to be late.”

He caught Sam’s hands before they could leave him cold, and he looked up with the most sincere, pitiful expression that he could manage this early in the morning. He laid a glancing kiss on Sam’s left wrist. “Please?”

Sam looked completely unswayed.

Nick tried the other wrist, never dropping that oh so important eye contact. “But… I love you?”

It had worked in the past, and it seemed worth a try.

Sam bore his teeth and managed to look away for a second, but the fight was going right out of him. When he finally sighed and leaned down to give Nick a rather… sweet kiss, Nick knew that he’d won.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam ran a thumb over the little scar that indented his lower lip. “Same to you.”

“Besided,” Nick gently bit at that thumb. “I bet you clean up real nice.”

“Excuse me?”

“I will lend you a shirt that has buttons and everything.”

A rather hesitant look came over Sam. “Buttons?”

Apparently it was rather shocking to the kid that Nick owned what he dubbed as ‘nice clothes’. Shocking and distracting, if the way he kept smoothing his hands down Nick’s tie were any indication.

“Is it crooked? Do I look ok?” He frowned as Sam petted at him in the parking lot. Back in the apartment had been one thing- a rather nice thing. In the car had been a little distracting, but no less welcome. But now they were up in Frisco, standing in the parking lot of a worn old grey church.

“You look… nice.” Sam said simply.

Nick felt uncomfortable. He always did with a tie on. Like wearing a paisley noose. But he also knew that Anna would probably break his pinkies if he showed up in a tshirt. “Great. I look nice. Maybe I’ll get lucky and no one will recognize me.”

“I’d say that the chances of you getting lucky are… pretty high at this point.”

Nick laughed and started waking up to the church- and then the innuendo caught up with him and he found that he couldn’t look at Sam for a few moment because he knew that he would start laughing and this was a church, and his family was lurking around and they mustn't know that he wasn’t one hundred percent miserable.  

The pastor was at the big front doors, greeting everyone with a smile and friendly words. He was an old man, thin as a rail, very well groomed, and rather tired looking.

All that humor went right out of Nick.

“Sir,” he nodded respectfully.

The old man’s eyes widened just a touch. “Nikola, no one told me that the prodigal son was going to be here.” And then he was hugging Nick, which was as startling as it was weird. Which was to say that Nick had been expecting it and had braced himself. Rumor had it that Father O’Shay had been friend’s with Nick’s own father. Through some true, saint like patience this priest had somehow managed to not condemn any of the wild brothers, which had been hellish members of his congregation until they were teenagers- and at one point had actually started a fire in the Baptistry. There were a lot of sins between the three of them. All but two of which had been forgiven with not much more than a couple of Hail Marys.

“Hiya, Padre.”

The old priest laughed warmly and let go, but not before tumping him firmly on the back. Deceptively strong for a man that had to be pushing sixty. “We haven't seen you in years. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And your wife? Will she be joining us as well?”

And there is was.

Nick had almost managed to forget about his phone call with Lilith last night, or his call from Gabriel this morning. Deep breath in, and he thought that he might manage to keep it all together. “We got a divorce almost ten years ago.... Sir.”

Condolences were given for the divorce- after all, this was the man who had performed the wedding ceremony, and Sam was given a firm handshake and a smile, welcomed in as a friend of the family- because Nick wasn’t quite brave enough to introduce Sam to the Padre. Not as his boyfriend at least.

They took seats in the back of the chapel, and Sam sat on the awful wooden bench like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Nick found that he sort of went somewhere else all together. Mentally at least. He just found it a little hard to focus on Sarah and the other kids when all he could do was wonder if June was here with him, if she would have questions. If she would want to know about these weird Catholic traditions that her father and uncles had grown up with. If she had grown up with him, if he would have wanted to have a first communion as well.

All he saw here was the family that he had never had the opportunity to screw up for himself. And who knows. Maybe he would have been an amazing dad, unlike what his brothers and their wives, and virtually everyone seemed so determined to make sure that he knew.

He liked to think that he wouldn’t have fucked it up too badly.

Hannah was suddenly crawling up into his lap. Her hair a mess and her dress not much better. Which was the wear and tear one can expect when they go crawling around on the floor beneath a dozen pews. She got her hands on his knees and started pulling herself up without an invitation.

With only one of two sharp jabs of her rather pointed knees and elbows to the more tender parts of Nick’s lap, she finally settled down. “This is boring.” She she said a bit too loudly as she smoothed out the billion and two ruffles that made up her dress.  

“I know, monster.” He pulled his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight bear hug that made her squeak. Doing his utmost to keep her still. “But it’s almost over.”

She looked up at him with a grin. “And then we have cake.”

“That’s what I hear.” He actually hadn’t, but yay. Cake. Something to look forward to. “Now hush.” He kissed the top of her head. “Or your mom is going to come back here and pinch us.”

Anna’s bright red hair was kind of hard to miss, and he was actually really, really grateful that she was up near the front and not able to shoot him any threatening looks.

Hannah sighed like this was all somehow Nick’s fault, but she sunk down and took hold of his hands. She took some small, demented pleasure in jamming his index fingers together repeatedly. Lining up his fingernails and then seeing how hard she could make him stab himself. Delightful little monster that she was. Nick did his best not to wince. Favoring kissing her on the head each time, or giving her another squeeze.

Before an eternity had a chance to fully pass them by, before he started hemorrhaging from his fingers, the stupid thing finally ended. Gabriel sliding in to the edge of their bench with a rather pointed look at Nick as people around them started to get up and shuffle out.

Great.

He released Hannah and gave her a push out into the isel. “Go, Monster. Go find your cake.”

She took off in a flurry of ruffles and giggles, without a second look back.

Nick braced himself, a kissed Sam’s cheek before getting up. “I’ll be back. Don’t get lost.”

“Yeah.” Sam frowned up at him, then glanced around at the room of relative strangers. “I’ll try.”

It felt like leaving the kid in a lion’s den. But Castiel was near by, there would be some protection for Sam. Some.

Nick clasped a hand over his littlest brother’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on him.”

Castiel looked up at him, a little uncertain, then over at Sam.

“Just don’t let him get baptized or anything, ok?”

With a tiny smile Castiel nodded, obviously not taking his job all that seriously.

“I swear to god, Cassy, if I come back and he’s got so much as a rosary I’m coming after you.”

“I think Gabriel is trying to get your attention, Nick.”

Nick took a moment to pause in his idle threats to see that Gabriel was indeed, standing at the end of the row without his usual smile.

Even better.

He knocked on the back of the wooden bench and went to join Gabriel.

“Yeah?”

His significantly shorter brother took his arm and started leading him outside to the grass and trees and cool breeze. “First, cake. Then you can tell me if you slept well- because I certainly didn’t. Then you can sign the damn passport papers, because you don’t pay me enough for this kind of… crap.” He added on a bit awkwardly as they passed by someone’s grandmother.

“I don’t pay you at all.” Nick reminded as they closed in on the table that held refreshments (and most importantly cake).

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. This is a terrible deal for me, because I love getting a full night’s sleep, but I don’t love early morning calls from angry lawyers who are faxing me paper work. And I also don’t love you.”

Nick picked up a little paper plate with the largest piece of chocolate cake to be seen, and passed it to Gabriel.

Gabriel snatched it up quick as you like. “But I don’t completely hate you either.” He smiled at the cake, and Nick wasn’t sure if his brother was talking to him or the dessert.

“Yeah, well. I’d like you to keep that not complete hatred in mind.”

With a mouth so gummed up with chocolate frosting apparently Gabriel couldn’t manage to ask anything, only raise a suspicious eyebrow.

Which was one of the best things that had happened to Nick all day.

“I need to borrow forty-eight thousand.”

“...wuhfy?” Gabriel asked with some hesitation, fork still in his mouth.

“Lilith offered to sell me June.”

Gabriel choked on his cake.

Nick didn’t pat him on the back or anything. He just stood there and waited for the melodrama to pass.

“You- you,” Gabriel cleared his throat. “You almost made me spit out my cake, you bastard.”

Nick kept waiting.

“Wait- you’re actually serious?”

“I am.”

“God, no. No. No, no no no no with a cherry on top.” His cake stayed as a weight in his hands, keeping them from gesturing wildly around and drawing any extra attention, which was nice. Just two brothers commiserating beneath an oak tree. Nothing exciting to see.

“Why?”

“You want me to make you a list, Nick?” Gabriel laughed. “How about we start with that’s illegal-”

“Not actually the issue here.”

“Second,” Gabriel kept on going like he really meant to make this a fully inclusive list of all the things wrong with the idea. “No judge in their right mind is going to grant you full custody of June, with or without money changing hands.”

“Apparently one already saw fit to give me joint custody,” completely unmasked hostility entering into his words. “So, I’m still not seeing the problem.”

“Third, you are a self employed, alcoholic, living in a one bedroom apartment, with your very enthusiastic and sometimes fairly naked boyfriend.”

Well… then.

Apparently number three on this list was a multi-part problem. And Gabriel could be cruelly honest at times, but he wasn’t usually so rational or lucid.

Nick folded his arms over his chest, making himself as big as he could because at times it still worked on his brother. “I-I make ok money.” He stumbled through a poor attempt at self defense. “And I can move to a larger place.”

Intimidation tactics weren’t working today.

“Nick. You’re. Not. Listening.”

“And I haven’t touched a drop in weeks.” They could both stand here making excuses until someone started packing up the chairs. Nick felt like he might stand a chance of winning this one.

Gabriel took a slow breath and squared his shoulders. Defiant little glare without an ounce of sympathy or apology. “She’s a good kid, and doesn’t deserve to be stuck with someone like you, Nick... and I’m willing to go before that judge and testify that you would be an unfit parent.”

“I- you would…” That couldn’t be right. Nick couldn’t have heard right. “You what?”

“Come on. You can’t even take care of yourself. How are you going to take care of a teenage girl?”

Nick didn’t have any name for what he was suddenly feeling. Only knew that it wasn’t good. So he said with some authority, and no respect for where they were standing, “fuck you.”

“Nick,”

“No.” He swallowed hard. “No. Fuck you, Gabe. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“You never listen.” Gabriel shook a chocolate smeared fork at him. “There is a court order. A real, legal court order. Signed by a judge- a judge from Nevada, but still. You will do the passport paperwork for June- or there will be cops. Real ones. Not the stripper kind- though they maybe from Vegas so… it could be a fifty- fifty kind of thing.” He seemed to get a little lost once strippers had entered into the explanation.

They took a little break after that. It was either that or they could start throwing punches.

Not a lot of room for variety.

Not after so many years.

They knew each other too well.

Gabriel working on his cake like he was trying to console it. Nick just looking up at the trees. There weren’t too many of them out here in the city. And only a small handful of them here on the church grounds. And he’d always liked trees, but these ones looked barren and a bit lonely- though it was possible that he was projecting just a bit.

Nick couldn’t tell if he was shaking from the early spring cold, or something else, but he fell like he was going to come apart any moment. “Gabe… she said if I get her the money I can have June.” Stubbornness wasn’t going to save him, but he had to stay focused.

Gabriel hissed through his nose, sharp little breath of frustration. “That woman is the devil, and I trust her about as far as I can throw her. Just let it go.”

It all boiled down to just one thing that he couldn’t get over. As simple and honest as Nick had ever been. “But she’s my daugher.”

“And she’s damn lucky that she doesn’t know it.”

And they’d said a lot of bad things to each other over the years.

But that was probably the worst one to date.

“You know what? Forget I asked.” He slapped the paper plate and the last few bites of cake out of his brother’s hand. The little mess fell upside down, smearing messily over the grass at their feet. “I’ll take out a loan or something.”

Gabriel slowly looked up from his cake with the hollow, dead eyes of someone who’s seen too much violence. “Bankers don’t have a little box to check when the jackass coming to them is going to be using the money to buy a child.”

“Fuck. You.”

“As your lawyer… and as your brother, I won’t have anything to do with this.”

“I wasn’t asking for your blessing.”

“This is dumb, Nick. Even for you.” Gabriel added softly, the last feeble utterings of a condemned man. Like a goodbye.

And Nick could see it.

It wasn’t going to work. The logic here wasn’t complicated.

But there was no law that he had to accept any of it with quiet, dignity, or grace.

He hadn’t really thought that Gabriel would give him that money- but he’d at least been hoping for a bit of sympathy. Someone to back him up.

“Come on,” Gabriel grabbed his arm, surprisingly firm grasp. “Don’t. What if Lilith actually give her over, hu? What happens when she changes her mind in a few months and wants June back?”

“This is Lilith we’re talking about- I’m still not convinced she ever wanted June in the first place.”

“What about when she decides that she wants to milk more money out of you?”

“I…” He huffed softly and shook Gabriel off. “I’ll worry about that later.”

“There’s not going to be a later. I was serious about talking to that Judge.”

“And if we weren’t in a church I would break your nose.”

He’d done it before actually, back when they were a little more than fourteen.

“Nick,”

He just shook his head and walked off, leaving his brother beneath the tree, and went looking for someone who might actually take his side just this once.

Sam was sitting on a nice stone bench by the side of the church, hands folded and resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Hey, darlin’.” Nick said with a smile that was all for show. “Are you ready to head back home?” Because god knew that he was.

With a smile all his own, Sam looked up. Bright and open and hopeful- all the things that Nick didn’t feel at this point in his life.

“Yeah.” He stood, comfortably invading Nick’s personal space like it wasn’t even there. “You get to say goodbye to your dad?”

And there may have been times and places where that question wouldn’t have felt like being blindsided by a semi, but that was not here and it was not now.

“My ...dad?”

“I-I thought that’s who he was.” Sam sounded almost apologetic. “Chuck, right? About yay tall,” he gestured mid chest level with a wavering hand. “Or… was that actually Rekha’s dad?”

Seeing as Rekha’s father had died back in Ninety-two, it was just about as possible that it was him, as it would have been for Nick’s father to actually show up. More so in fact.

He turned and scanned the milling little crowd of smiling parents and running children, searching for any sign of a ghost.

“... no one told me he was here.” Nick heard someone said, with a start realizing that it was himself.

“He said he didn’t want anyone making a big deal,” Sam explained with a rather confused tone. “then he went to go get a drink.”

Yep.

That was definitely his dad.

His hands were hurting and Nick looked down to realized it was because he was clenching them so tightly. White knuckled fists at his side. Shaking. And Shaking. Because he needed to punch someone or something and there were no convenient targets nearby. It wasn’t necessarily anger.

It was just too much.

Too much of everything and far too fast.

“Fuck-I,” He made another quick once over of everyone he could see, but Dad was short. He was good at hiding. “I’ll be right back.” He called over his shoulder as he abandoned Sam in favor of a trying desperately to find the man that he’d given up looking for years ago.

But Dad had left years ago and he hadn’t wanted to be found.

Not a whole lot had changed.

Rekha was all he found. Her lovely mouth turned down in a tight line. She stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. Much like him and Gabriel, they’d known each other far too long. and she read him like an open book. “Nick,”

“Did you see Dad? Sam said he met him and I-I,”

“He’s already gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone? He can’t be gone.”

“Nick.” She soothed. “He got in his car. And he drove away.”

“No.” For the record, yes. He was completely aware of the fact that he sounded like a whining child, but he couldn’t help it. “No. He would have said something. He wouldn’t just run off without saying something.”

Her answer was a hug.

She put her arms around him and held him so right, and Nick just stood there. Numb from his hairline down.

It was just too much.

Too much of everything and far too fast.

His sister in law lead him easily into the chapel, telling him firmly that he needed to sit down, and when he tried to argue she pushed him into a pew and forced him to sit. To be fair, he didn’t have much fight left in him at this point.

“I’m sorry, love.” She whispered against his temple. “Would you mind… keeping this between us? I think it might kill your brothers if they knew.”

If they knew?

What about Nick?

Who was going to care what this was doing to him?

“Come on, Nick. You know how upset they were when he left.”

“I won’t say anything.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He was just putting together whatever words he thought that she wanted to hear. He slumped forward, resting his forehead on the back of the bench in front of him. “Hey… can I borrow forty-eight thousand dollars?”

She gently patted the back of his neck, straightening the collar of his shirt. “I’ve only got enough cash on me for the toll bridge to get back home.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” She repeated, voice dipping low as she lightly mocked him.

“You going to be ok?”

“No.”

She sighed and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ve got yourself into this time… but you’d tell us if it was serious, right?”

Nick folded his arms over his head and took a deep breath that only shook a little. “Right.”

He used to be such a good liar.

But even he didn’t believe that one.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't like writing the last chapter.  
> I liked writing this one even less.
> 
>  
> 
> I miss the fluff

Nick held firmly to the opinion that you don’t just let some other man drive your car- but if anyone was ever going to be allowed to, it seemed only fitting that it be Sam.

So when Sam offered to drive them back down to Stanford, Nick just handed over the keys. He was fairly certain that he’d end up turning them over in a ditch during the drive if it were left up to him, and really the only good things he still had going for himself at this point was the man beside him and the car that they were sitting so quietly in.

Mile markers rolling past and Nick realized that neither of them had said a word for almost an hour.

“I feel like we missed out on the golden opportunity of having sex in a confessional.”

The mood lifted in an instant as Sam laughed, shaking his head with a wide smile. “Absolutely not.”

“No, no. You’re supposed to offer to turn the car around.” Nick instructed, because obviously Sam didn’t understand how these things work.

Sam laughed again as he repeated himself, eyes fixed firmly on the road. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.”

Which got Sam nodding along easily, agreeing.

Nick couldn’t help but smile just a touch. It wasn’t all as bad as it seemed… right? It couldn’t be. He just had to try to stay focused on the few and far between things in his life that weren't complete and utter shit.  

There weren't many.

It was a nice, sort, concise list.

“Um…” Sam kind of hesitated. “Is your last name Novak?”

And at first, Nick smiled, then he realized that Sam was actually serious. He tugged at his lip, not sure how to answer that one. It wasn’t that he didn’t know his own last name- it just seemed so crazy that Sam wouldn’t know it by this point.

How long had they been together?

Isn’t that supposed to be one of the first things that you ask someone?

Nick Novak? What a horrible name that would have been.

“No. That’s Castiel’s. He kept his mom’s last name even when he came to live with us.”

Sam glanced over.

“You… you really don’t know my last name, do you?”

“It’s never come up.”

Well, Nick obviously couldn’t argue with that. “ ‘s Shurley.”

Sam snorted softly, then glanced at him sideways again. “Are you serious?”

“I changed it to my dad’s back when I was changing my first name.” Nick smiled as Sam chuckled. “And don’t make that face. Nick Shurley is still a better name than Lucifer.”

“Yeah,” he kind of shrugged, not able to argue, “ok.”

“... why didn’t you ask that when we first met?” Not that Nick had exactly asked Sam his full name, but he hadn’t needed to. Castiel had told him long before that first date so very long ago.

Sam shook his head, and even though it was just in profile, he looked annoyed. “Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

“I do.”

“No. You don’t.” Sam took a deep breath, and Nick suddenly knew that he was in trouble. “I know how you like your coffee, sure. I know that you won’t wear sock to bed even though you’ve always got cold feet.” He tightened his hands on the wheel. “I even know that you actually count while brushing your teeth to make sure you’re doing it for long enough-”

“I don’t-”

“Which is stupid and I love it.” Sam cut him and his protests off. “But I don’t even know what college you went to. I don’t know why you have these really detailed tattoos over your arms and then you’ve got that stupid looking… whatever the hell it is on your chest. It looks like a five year old drew it- and it’s weirdly cute, don’t get me wrong. I just… I don’t know who you were before I met you.”

“Sam,”

“I don’t know who you are now.”

Nick wanted to counter that Sam wasn’t an open book either- there are just some things that don’t bare bringing up because there was nothing good to be found in them. But honestly?  They weren't precisely meeting each other halfway here. Sam was almost eager to share just about anything that Nick asked about, just about as talkative as any girl that Nick had ever dated.

And Nick was at the far opposite end of that spectrum.

So it wasn’t a perfect relationship.

Nick had never, not even once, pretended that he was even close to a perfect man, much less a perfect boyfriend.

He rubbed a hand over his face, not really emotionally ready for a talk like this. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you when I went to talk to Gabriel.” Adding on as more of a reminder to himself, “you can’t leave people alone in churches.”

“What were you talking to Gabriel about?”

Nick tried to get all those sudden thoughts, those terribly fresh wounds, into some kind of order. To sift through and find the ones that he could actually talk about so soon after the fact. But he could feel his throat getting tight.

“Just… stuff.” Was all he was able to put together.

“Stuff.” Sam repeated rather tightly. “Well, there you go. You guys were talking about… stuff.”

Terribly, terribly, fresh wounds.

“Fuck you.” He said defensively. He wasn’t a child. Curling up wasn’t going to keep him safe. But he had his words, those nice harsh words that had always kept him so safe. “I don’t have to check in with you whenever I talk to my brother.”

“I’m not saying-” Sam took a slow breath like he was counting to a nice high number to calm himself down. “You’re important to me. If there’s something big going on, something I can help with, I’d like to know.”

Which was probably a very honest offer, but it sounded very rehearsed. Like this wasn’t the first time that he’d had to tell someone this.

And in a weird way, Nick wanted to. He kind of… almost… wanted to talk to Sam about this. Not because any of these things were any of Sam’s damn business. But because it’s something that Sam wanted from him and so Nick wanted more than anything in the world to give it to him.

Simple, and stupid and just the way that he’d been for months now.  

If he didn’t feel like he’d been hit by a truck, then maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult. He rubbed at his chest and the heavy feeling that he was having such a hard time breathing past.

“It’s… it’s the monster that used to live under June’s bed.” It wasn’t really on the list of his current problems. The tattoo was old and little faded, but it was the only thing on the list of his faults that he thought he could actually talk about with an even tone. But the monster that sat over his heart inevitably lead him fast and unavoidably to June, who was sitting pretty down there in the eye of this storm.

Nick did his best. Talking in a slow even tone right up until he heard his voice crack. Then he just turned in his seat to look out the window, watching the houses scroll past. Apparently at some point they’d gotten off the freeway.

They pulled into the driveway and Sam let the engine run. Didn’t even put the car in park.

“Dean’s home. Sam’s voice was soft, like he didn’t want to interrupt the sound of the rain hitting the windshield.

He glanced up to see the hearse-like vehicle sleeping along side them. “I’ll just get going.”

“No. You can come in.” Sam sounded like he really meant it too.

“Your brother actively hates me.” Nick tried to smile and realized he was in way over his head at this point.

The keys jingled as Sam twisted them slowly. “He thinks you’re using me.” And like everything else that he’d said since they got in this car, his words sounded so honest, and sincere, and… bitter.

Nick slunk a little lower in his seat. He felt like he was finally starting to settle down into the bedrock of misery. “Well, I am. I mean- that’s why we started this in the first place, isn’t it? We were using each other quite openly.” Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of a joke, but  unfortunately with those words he’d started scratching at an itch that he’d never been able to really satisfy. “I needed to keep Gabriel off my back and you...”

He realized that he didn’t want to finish that thought.

That list, that list of good things?

It was still only two lines long.

Admitting that he was still convinced and down right terrified that as some point Sam was going to get tired of him… it would knock that list down to  one whole thing.

Sam had turned in his seat to look over at him. A rather blank expression that didn’t go with the edge that bit into his question. “And I what?”

“And you were just a bit lonely.”

“Excuse me?”

He couldn’t really go any further down, right? “Well, that’s why Dean set you up with me, wasn’t it? Your friend had gone and gotten married, you were moping around for months and your brother thought a quick fuck would cheer you up.”

Because there wasn’t any good left in him right now, and that’s all he was to Sam. Just a rebound. That’s how it had started, and that’s probably how it would end too. And-

No.

No that wasn’t right.

Nick pushed those thoughts as far away as he could. Now was not a good time for them.

He’d just worn himself down (and Gabriel and Lilith certainly hadn’t helped), a little too much these past few days.

“No.” Sam looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “No. I was just tired of getting set up on dates all the time. Same as you.” A little anger starting to creep in, because apparently he couldn't let Nick be the only one prickling. “What the actual hell, Nick?”

“Well, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” Rephrasing didn’t change it or make it any less true.

“No. It wasn’t.” Sam folded his arms, then unfolded them again. “You’re making it sound like I was hanging around hoping for sex because I couldn’t get it anywhere else.”

Sam had told Nick that he never talked about himself. Never ‘shared’. So Nick went and said what he was thinking and didn’t immediately regret it. “I’m sure that you could have gotten it just about anywhere else. I don’t know why you settled for me.”

“Because I love you, you asshole.”

“Do you?”

It took almost five whole seconds before he realized that he should have kept his mouth shut.

Sam threw his hands up. “Seriously, Nick! What the hell?”

And he tried to say something, but he’d gone empty. Carved out and hollowed by this acidic, self preserving anger that had no place here.

He dragged his hands through his hair and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t like he could just get out of the car and leave, and go some place quiet to collect himself.

This wasn’t his house and Dean wasn’t likely to just let him on in.

He needed to calm down though or he was going to start a fight- and it was going to be with the man sitting beside him, who incidentally was pretty much the only person that Nick had ever met that he didn’t want to physically injure at some point.

The car suddenly felt too small.

So he looked beyond the rain, up at the grey sky, taking slow, even breaths through slightly parted lips. “How did my dad look?” He heard himself ask in a stiff voice.

“He… looked… fine.” Sam answered haltingly.

“I haven’t seen him in almost ten years, Sam.” Nick ground his teeth, never taking his eyes off the sky. “Try and be a bit more descriptive.”

And Nick could have asked about the weather, or football. It didn’t really matter all that much. He just needed to think about something else, something that seemed safe, and he’d gone with the first asinine thing that had come to mind.

Sam was watching him.

Nick could actually feel the weight of it.

Doing nothing at all to settle his nerves.

“He was a little gray at the temples… hadn’t shaved recently. He also might have been a bit drunk.” Sam added on in a disapproving kind of way. “But like father like son, I guess.”

Which, was actually the wrong kind of thing to say to a man who was struggling in that moment to not start yelling.

“I haven’t had a drink since we started having sex, so fuck you, you-” Nick caught himself, biting his lip and trying to look over at Sam, to offer an apology. But that was asking a bit much for his body to comply with right then. “God damn it. These past few weeks have been a fucking nightmare and I can’t- I didn’t mean to… sorry.” He swore his way through an apology in the gentlest way that he knew how. “I’m gunna go now. I need a few hours to just not be here.”

He had tried.

He had made a stunning effort.

And he would have been so damn proud of himself if it had worked.

Because he’d never really been mad at Sam.

But Lilith was hundreds of miles away behind a restraining order, and Gabriel had been protected by the virtue of being in a church. Almost every aspect of his world felt completely beyond his control and he was lost. Lost and angry and just really, really not keeping it together all that well right now.

Nick didn’t want to see Sam as an easy target. It was either him or the car though, and unfortunately, Sam was the first one to say something.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Christ. No. I thought that by dating a guy I’d be spared this touchy feely crap for once.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, wanting to get out of the car because even under all of this there was still a small part of him that valued self preservation. “I’m not going to talk about it because it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Oh. Real nice.”

“Look, you wanna’ talk? Fine.” He didn’t need Sam’s sarcasm right now. And it’s odd how something about someone can be so endearing at one time, and set your teeth on edge another. “Ask me questions. I’ll tell you all the dumb ass stuff that you want to know for some fucking reason that I’m never going to understand. It’s not important, and that’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Apparently Sam either didn’t know a landmine when he saw one, or simply didn’t care. “What’s going on with your ex?”

So casual, like a slap to the face.

His ex.

Sam had never once asked before. Much like Nick’s full name. Apparently it hadn’t been all that important to him before right now.

And Nick wanted to keep it that way.

You don’t let someone, even if it’s someone you love, jab at your open injuries with a sharp stick.

It just isn’t done.

“None of your damn business.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he got out of the car, leaving Nick no choice other than to join him in the drizzling rain.

“You’re right.” Sam slammed the door. “It’s none of my damn business.”

Nick came around to his side and held his hand out for the keys, not trusting himself to say anything at all right then.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your dad.” No apology in his tone whatsoever. “He seemed nice.”

Nick grabbed the keys from Sam’s hand a little harder than necessary, and watched as the younger man winced slightly.

“Fuck you.” And this is why he’d been trying (with really, really poor success) to keep his fat mouth shut. “Maybe he didn’t stick around like yours did, and he wouldn’t win any awards- but I don’t need your sympathy.”

Sam got stiff, real and true anger on his face, because if nothing else, Nick was really good at picking fights when he wanted one.

“Did you really just compare your mousey, polite dad to the monster I grew up with?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. You’re an expert on terrible fathers! You obviously know how to classify them so much better than me.”

“I know enough to say that you’d make a pretty fucking terrible one.”

The rain kept falling. If you could even call it that. Just a steady  drip drip drip that was plastering his shirt to his back and chest. And Nick was shaking.

It was probably the temperature.

But that was probably a lie.

Gabriel had already made his stance fairly obvious. And Nick hadn’t even brought it up to Rekha because he’d known how she felt about him having a kid ten years ago when Lilith first showed up pregnant. The rest of his family had never really been all that subtle on the subject either.

And  Nick felt like he’d just been abandoned on the edge of the world and left to fend for himself.

His whole life, since his mom packed him up a backpack and put him on a bus without really even saying goodbye, he’d been trying to drown out that awful feeling.

He just hadn’t realized how completely justified it was until Sam said those words.

What did Sam know though?

What did any of them?

Nick had only been looking for some sympathy.

Some company.

He didn’t need it though.

He didn’t.

  
He didn’t.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there.  
> Unless I do Sam coming to visit from Nick's pov- but I don't know if my heart can take it.  
> I think I'd rather just have some sweet June arrival and then move on to my well earned happy ending.

First order of business.

Booze.

But for some godforsaken reason, Nick had cleaned all of the lovely stuff out of his apartment a couple of weeks back. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why he’d decided to do such a stupid thing.

Well, it was easy enough to fix.

There was a bar only two blocks from his house- sure he could have just swung by a liquor store, but there was just enough self awareness left by that point to remember that drinking alone was a very, very bad idea when he felt this way.

Sunday night, in a college town, just weeks away from midterms, and there was no parking in front of the bar. So he went home, parked his car, and took his bike. There was always room for his bike out in front of the bar- and if he was driving he was more likely to watch how much he drank  then he would be if he just walked there.

Such a responsible, sorry son of a bitch he was.

Sitting at the end of the bar, five glasses of scotch in, and he was warm, and hazy, and for the life of him couldn’t remember why he hadn’t done this sooner. Two weeks was far too long to go without a drink.

Alcohol was an old friend.  A good friend. One that understood him. One that he had missed.

On to the second order of business.

second…

He couldn’t remember what it was that he wanted to do after getting good and drunk.

Which probably had something to do with the being drunk part of it.

He lightly knocked his mostly empty glass against the bar, letting the ice rattle around.

The bartender glanced over at him and lightly shook his head. He was a young kid, had only worked here for a year or so, and Nick didn’t know him too well, but it was rather obvious that the other more seasoned people working here had warned this guy about Nick.

“If you get one more then I have to call your brother, and take your keys.”

Yep, definitely warned.

These are the perils that you set yourself up for when you live in the same place for almost five years, and go to the same bar more than three times a week.  

Nick rubbed at his mouth with the back of a wrist before knocking his glass again. “Come on,” he slurred softly. “I’ve got to catch up.”

See, there were fourteen days worth of alcohol that he owed himself. And if he couldn’t make this up to himself then no one else was going to.

The bartender, whose name Nick either had never known, or forgot a few glasses ago, pushed him over another drink and then pulled out a phone from under the bar.

And Nick watched through the bottom of his drink, as the man hit a speed dial and then proceeded to tell someone on the other end of the phone that they needed to come pick up their brother.

And it had to be someone else’s brother.

Nick wasn’t that drunk, and there was no way that they had any of his family on speed dial.

At least that was what he had easily convinced himself of right up until Castiel sat down beside him.

Nick curled his hands defensively around his glass just in case anyone tried to take it away from him. “No.”

Cassy didn’t acknowledge him, just smiled politely at the man behind the bar and ordered himself a soda.

Perhaps it was about time for Nick to start looking for a new bar. One that didn’t have his baby brother on retainer. One in which they didn’t know when to cut him off, or call for reinforcements.

“ ‘m not done.” He said unevenly into his glass.

“You are so done at this point that I think you might be embalmed.” His brother played with the edge of the napkin beneath his soda. “I thought that you were going to quit.”

“Changed my mind.”

“Obviously.”

Nick worked on his drink, throat already numb, chest feeling like it was on fire.

“How many have you had?”

“Not enough.” Because if Nick could still remember why he was drinking then he definitely hadn’t had enough yet.

Maybe just one more.

Castiel glanced over at him. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Go away.”

Castiel worked on his soda, just kind of quiet and non intrusive for a bit, maybe trying to give Nick some perceived space. It didn’t really work. It’s hard to pretend that you’re alone when your brother’s elbow is touching your own.

Nick ignored.

And Nick finished his drink.

So there.

“I thought that the Communion today was really… nice.” Cassy said in that low, even way that he had. “And it was good to see you there with Sam.”

“Fuck Sam.”

Castiel sighed softly.

“An fuck you. I don’eed a babysitter.” He pushed his empty glass away from him. “D’you know that that sonabitch, he… he… I was only with him bec’us there was no way ta get the fucker pregn’t an end up with another kid I can’t take care of.” His teeth were slick and his tongue felt well oiled. “ ‘s jus’ …. jus’... you know.”

He’d lost a word. It tended to happen after a few drinks. He glanced over for some help. Cassy was usually always so good with his words, but his brother only looked mildly horrified.

“...you know.” Nick insisted.

“Did he… did you say that to him?”

Nick rubbed at his face, trying to clear the familiar haze that was settling over him. “No. Bu’he knows. I knows. Ev’ry fuckin’ fuck knows.”

Somethings were just painfully obvious.

Somethings Nick didn’t even know until the instant he heard himself say them. Odd, and bitter uncertainties that he wasn’t aware of having, coming out of him in an uneven voice.

And this whole time he’d thought he’d been in love.

Funny the kinds of things that come to light once you’ve moved into that glorious realm of drunkenness where everything makes perfect sense.

He didn’t even know who he was angry at anymore. Old scotch was good at complicating things like that.

Castiel played with his straw, watching him from the corner of his eye with the practiced patience of someone who already knows how this story is going to go, because he’d heard it so many times before. “So, you two had a fight.”

And anyone who said that Castiel didn’t understand romance, and relationships, and basic human interactions, was obviously missing the finer nuances of this marvelously intelligent creature right here.

Nick raised a very poignant finger. “ ‘need another one.”

“... another boyfriend?” Cassy asked hesitantly.

“Nhn.  ‘nother drink.”

Castiel dropped his hands to his lap and just looked miserable. “Even you have a limit, Nick.”

“ ‘m not there yet.”

“I would really prefer if you don’t vomit in my car.”

“ ‘m not gett’n in your car.”

Nick looked for the bartender, because his brother was not the boss of him. But the man was down at the far end, rather pointedly ignoring him.

Jackass.

Castiel gently put a hand on his arm. “You’re not driving yourself anywhere like this.”

“Aha, but you’r’not the boss of me.” He wasn’t interested in driving anywhere right now anyhow. He just wanted one more drink. It was not a complicated emotion. He didn’t have any of those in him right now anyways. He just felt hard, and heavy and jilted.

He trusted Sam. Completely lost himself in the other man- only to discover that he’d made the same fatal mistake that he’d made years ago when he fell for Lilith.  Sure, Sam had different nails to dig in, but the result was just the same.

“Hey,” he knocked his glass against the bar, loud enough to startle himself, and get the bartender’s attention.

The man came over, with the same reluctance that anyone approaching a wounded animal would show, but he didn’t take Nick’s glass, instead looking at Castiel.

Nick’s baby brother shrugged one shoulder. “May as well. He’ll probably be easier to move.”

And that was possible true.

Nick certainly wasn’t going to argue, because he got his drink, and sort of lost the rest of the night after that.

When he woke up it was to the harsh lights and antiseptic smell of a hospital, which was a far cry from the dim, warm bar that he last remembered- so yeah. Cassy must have been right. Nick had certainly moved.

And good god, but he hurt.

Everything just hurt.

His throat and his arms and his chest and his legs. He felt like he’d been mashed under a pile of bricks, like a wall had fallen on him. His head ringing, not at all aided or soothed by the relentless beeping of a machine that was keeping pace with the heartbeat that he could feel pounding in his ears.

He wished that this wasn’t the first time waking up like this. The familiarity certainly wasn’t comforting. All he could do was keep his eyes closed against the bright, white light and try to will his body to go back to sleep despite the pain.

“Are you waking up?”

Rekha’s soft voice barely registered to Nick and he thought that he might have managed to grunt some kind of reply.

“Good.” She said somewhere on his left side, one of her hands lightly touching his cheek. “Come on, Nick. I can’t yell at your if you’re sleeping.”

Which wasn’t much incentive, but he managed to pry his eyes open, hissing softly, wincing away from the hospital room as best as he could. His sister in law was there, sitting on his bed instead of the chair beside them. She was in her scrubs, which meant that he at least knew what hospital he had been admitted to. Someone must have recognized him during check in and gone and found her and told her that he was back.

“How bad does it hurt?” She asked as she smoothed a hand through his hair.

“I feel like I’m dying.” His voice sounded wrecked, torn and raw, which when paired with the state of his throat, probably meant that someone had jammed a tube down it recently. He found that hospital staff was always doing that to him.

“Good.” She cooed.

“Good?”

“Nick, you hit Castiel. You also somehow managed to drive your bike into the side of a parked van. The EMTs who brought you in said that you had a blood alcohol level of point thirtyeight. I hope it hurts like hell, you stupid son of a bitch.” She said it all so soft and lovingly, slowly petting his hair over and over again.

“I hit him?” Nick was horrified. Everything else had happened before. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t nice. But it wasn’t new either. He’d never hit Castiel before though. In fact, he’d broken the nose of the last guy who had dared hit his baby brother.

“He’s got a split lip and it looks like he got into a fight with a staircase. He also made me promise not to smother you while you’re sleeping.” She continued petting him, and Nick watched her, saw the redness around the corners of her eyes, and realized that she’d been crying.

“How bad is it?”

“If you hadn’t had your helmet on we’d be at your funeral right now.”

“That’s a little… over dramatic.”

“You’ve been unconscious for two days. There are metal rods in your leg now and they’ve been considering skin grafts for your arms. They had to stich that big dumb head of yours back up, and if you’d had any brains at all I’m sure they would have been all over the road.”

Nick swallowed. “No broken ribs this time?”

“Only one, but I can give you a few more if you’d like.” She threatened quietly.

He closed his eyes, realizing that he couldn’t look at her any longer. “I can’t do anything right, can I?”

She stopped petting him, taking her hand away all together and leaving him alone in the darkness behind his eyes. “Nick. Did you do this on purpose?”

He’d love to have told her no. ‘No’ with any kind of certainty. But he honestly hardly even remembered going to the bar. Everything past that just kind of blurred, like trying to see what was at the bottom of a swiftly running stream. Distorted and confusing.  He wasn’t even sure why he’d been drinking in the first place.

Wait.

No.

He remembered. It just took a second to refocus.

Which really, really wasn’t a pleasant place to return to at this moment, but it helped a little to draw his mind away from the fact that his leg had started hurting worse and worse since the mention of metal rods.

“Isn’t it some kind of hospital policy to give injured people morphine?”

“Not if the injured person has a history of substance abuse, and his family has valid concerns. Those bastards only get extra strength tylenol.”

He opened his eyes again. “I’ve never had a drug problem.”

“Really? For some reason your doctor, a good friend of mine, she thinks differently.”

Nick felt like crying. Not weeping, or sobbing. Just crying. The more he woke up the more he became overly aware of how badly he was hurt this time. To the point that he was sort of forgetting about the room, or Rekha, or anything else going on. There must have been something in his system, something strong enough to have kept him for lashing out, but he was on the tail end of it, and really not in any state to deal with whatever kind of punishment that his family felt that he deserved.  

Some of that must have started to show in the way that he started to try and curl onto his side, or maybe it was in the involuntary little noises crawling out of his chest. Rekha got up and came back with a nurse who did something with the clear plastic tubes running between his arm and the IV. In the time between blinks Nick felt the echoing, quiet cloud of pain killers blanket him.

Rekha had only wanted to scare him, same as he had apparently scared her. She returned to his side, her hand back in his hair. “I’m going to go call your brother’s, tell them that you’ve woken... if you feel up to them visiting you.”

“No.” He didn’t even have to think about that one.

“I can’t keep Gabriel away for very long. He comes in to check on you every few hours.”

“What about you?”

“I was off shift three hours ago.” She sighed in a tired kind of way. “You’ve been in and out of it since they hauled you in here, but this is the first time you’ve been focused enough to talk.”

Nick didn’t really have a response to that one, just sort of drifting senselessly on whatever drug they’d given him. He still hurt. Hurt in ways that were rather uncomfortable and difficult to ignore, but it wasn’t all consuming.

“I’m a dumb ass, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely.” She kissed right above his eye, and she smelled like rubbing alcohol and soap.

The door to the room opened and even though Nick had been hoping it was the nurse returning to check on him- such thoughts only left him open to disappointment.

“You know, it never gets easier to walk in on my wife in bed with my brother.” Gabriel masked some kind of relief under his gentle joking.

Nick looked over, and the room swam only a little. “It was one time.”

“ _Two_ times. This is the third.”

“You weren't my husband back then.” Rekha pointed out, settling along Nick’s side, warm and welcome. “We weren't even dating.”

“It hurts all the same.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and sat himself down in the chair that she wasn’t using. “So, Luci, you decided to come back to me.”

“Didn’t do it for you.” He tried to pull his blankets up, but found that his hands were wrapped up in a few healthy layers of gauze, same as his arms. He’d been bundled up like a cheap Mummy knock off. His clumsy mitts weren't much good for moving things around. “I’m only here for your wife’s sweet ass and the promise of more drugs.”

Rekha huffed a soft laugh against the side of his face.

“Well, you came to the right place for it- but you could have just asked. We wouldn’t have made you go through all this trouble.” Gabriel reached over and touched his side, very, very gently. Odd kind of reassurance. “But no. You’ve always gotta be the dramatic one.”

 _Dramatic_.

That was almost funny coming from Gabriel.

Though… Nick supposed that from time to time he could overreact to some things. It was that temper of his. He didn’t think that it came from their dad. Maybe his Mom. She certainly hadn’t been the most stable of women. But he hadn’t grown up to be the most stable of men. These things must just run in his family.

Defensive,  a fucking menace to themselves, weak, and afraid.

But when you lay bare all your most fragile parts, you leave yourself open to getting hurt.

He knew it. He knew it from first hand experience. It certainly wasn’t any easier the second time around. Handling it the same way yet again hadn’t done him any favors either.

Maybe he slept for a while after that. He must have gone somewhere for a bit, because when he opened his eyes again Rekha was gone.

Gabriel was still there though. which was evidence that the universe had decided that Nick wasn’t in enough pain yet.

“You really scared us, you know?”

Nick wished that he could roll away, but hardly had the energy to open his eyes, much less indulge in any hearty physical movement.

“It was just a nap.”

“No. The accident, you ass clown.” Gabriel leaned over, elbows resting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve gotta say, as suicide attempts go,  this is the closest you’ve gotten.”

“Oh my god. I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I was just,” he licked his lips and they were chapped and dry, “I’d had a fight with Sam... I was angry.”

“Must have been some fight.”

Nick closed his eyes and shook his head. It wasn’t. As fights went it was actually fairly tame. But you don’t always need fists and yelling to have a good fight. Just a few wrong words and the right time.

“Did, uh, my phone make it?”

Gabriel almost smiled, just a little twitch of his lips. “It did. I got the joy of talking to that little firecracker you work with, tell her that I was standing watch over your sad, broken body. They sent you flowers.” He inclined his head to a little black vase with some dark colored helleborus flowers. Some of his favorites. It was kind of sweet.

Far more importantly than work though, “has Sam called?”

A slow sigh and a little head shake, Gabriel didn't’ exactly look sympathetic about it thoug.

Nick didn’t know what answer he’d been hoping for.

He supposed ‘yes’ or ‘no’, either would have felt like a punch in the gut. Because Sam couldn't know that Nick wrecked his bike. But the guy had definitely been there for the fight that lead up to it. And apparently he hadn’t called.

Nick hadn’t really expected him to.

In a way though it sort of made this decision easier for him.

“Gabe, in my contacts there’s a guy named Fergus. Call him for me, see if he still wants to buy my car.”  

“Your… car.” He repeated like Nick had gone crazy, spouting nonsense.

“Should be able to get about thirty thousand for it.” He licked his lips again and wondered if he was allowed to have a drink. “Haggle a bit though. He’s been after my car since I fixed her up.”

“What kind of drugs did they give you, Luci?”

“And I’ve got about eleven grand saved up- you’re giving me the rest.” He kind of twitched his hand nearest to Gabe, as close as he could get to prodding his brother rather meaningfully in the chest.

“For what?”

“I’m buying June.”

“Nick-”

“I’m buying June.” He said more firmly. “Because I’m not fucking drinking anymore- police are going to come by any day now and give me one of those little bracelets that freaks out if I’ve had alcohol.” He’d done this before. They’d also be letting him know that his license had been suspended, and that he would have to take classes or something. “And I’m moving to a place without stairs, with a second bedroom and an oven that works.”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, little pointed weasel nose wrinkling. “You planing on fixing those self employed, bad tempered, incredibly gay, parts of yourself too?”

“I’ve got a fine, reliable job, I’ll work on the temper… thing, and I’m currently single, so that’s not an issue.”

Which canceled out the majority of objections that Gabriel had had up until this point. But his brother seemed unmoved, focusing on all the wrong things.

“That _was_ some fight you two had.”

“Look, sell my car, send the money to Lilith. Then talk to a judge for me and tell them what an upstanding citizen I am.”

Gabriel kept on looking at him, expectantly, like he was waiting for the punchline or something.

“Now would be a good time.”

“Wait,” Gabriel sat up, frowning even more. “You’re actually serious.”

Nick gave his brother the most serious, this isn’t funny- expression, that he could.

Gabe got out of his chair, raising his hands defensively. “I want this to go on record as a fucking bad idea that I’ve been against from the start.”

“But you’ll do it?”

“Yeah.” He said with a sigh. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> true facts. I've been having a rough time lately.  
> And it seemed that the best fix might be a disgustingly fluffy chapter.  
> Maybe one of you needs it too.  
> It's good for all of us.

“You know,” Nick huffed as he tried to catch his breath, “I could go for a drink.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

“I wasn't joking.” Nick put a hand on the wall under the nice little number for his floor. Catching his breath again. “I need need a drink.”

Castiel looked up at him from where he’d wedges himself under Nick’s arm in an effort to help his big brother all the long way up to his apartment. Despite the protests that he could make it just fine on his own- that the cast didn’t slow him down too badly- and no he wasn’t going to use the damn crutches that the hospital seemed to think he needed- Cas was here.

They couldn’t both be _this_ stubborn, but then again…

All kinds of grim determination, Castiel’s hand tightened on the back of his shirt, and the cloth wet with Nick’s sweat because maybe this was harder than it should have been, but what do you expect after spending two weeks in bed? He felt frail, tired and out of breath, but his baby brother didn’t mention all that. Too hyper focused on the all stairs in Nick’s obviously not handicap accessible building.  

“Well, then. I am pleased to report that I’ve already cleaned out your apartment.” Castiel had the audacity to smile up at him.  “No alcohol, and lots of nice, fresh foods because all you had were some take out leftovers that were long past their expiration date.”

“You know I don’t cook, and I hate your god damned healthy fruit and vegetable garbage.”

“That’s why I had our lovely sisters donate a few meals that they thought you might find tempting. They are marked and in your freezer. All you have to do is microwave them.”

That was the biggest problem that Nick had really noticed in being locked up in a hospital for weeks. That his family had taken it on themselves to just step in and start deciding what was best for him again, like he was a kid and incapable of taking care of himself.

He looked down at where he could see the clean white bandages peeking around his wrists under his sleeves, and further down than that, the heavy cast that half of his leg had been encased in, like some medieval torture boot. It was heavy, and itchy, and he knew most of the pain in his leg came from the fact that it was being held together inside by bits of metal-  but he was going to just blame the cast, because it’s what he could see.

And he wished to god that he could blame someone else for all of this. But Nick knew that this was all his personal, glorious fuck up and that he was on his own.

Castiel gave his shirt a firm tug, urging him to come hobble along the last few feet to his apartment. An encouraging look on his upturned face.

Well, no.

Maybe Nick was not on his own. But he was certainly undeserving of a brother like this.

It was actually kind of nice and comforting that his other two siblings were doing exactly what was expected of them. Which was to say, voicing their strong disapproval and then refusing to have anything to do with their self destructive, broken brother.

Michael had sent his disapproving message via his wife, not even willing to make an appearance- which was appreciated.

And Gabriel had sent the money off to Lilith, just like he’d been asked to do, told Nick one last time exactly where he could stick this plan of his, and then left.

He hadn’t seen or heard from his brother in weeks.

Just like he hadn’t heard from his exwife.

Because it really had been a terrible plan from the start.

What had he really expected to happen?

Cassy was still here though. He’d come to the hospital, with a wonderfully bruised face and no desire to talk about it. And he’d visited Nick almost every day. Brought him books, and snuck him Oreos when the nurses weren't looking. Then check out time had come, and Nick had been released on his own accord after the police had come and taken away his driver’s license, slapped a blood alcohol monitoring bracelet on him, and informed him that he had all kinds of classes to take and community service to serve- and Castiel was still there.

Faithful little brother that he was.

They got into the apartment, and Nick got deposited on the couch and given a glass of orange juice from the fridge.

He sat there quietly, debating if he could convince his brother that it was already time again for some more of that vicodin that the doctor’s had sent him home with.

Castiel didn’t look like he was in the kind of mood to go for it however, busying himself with heating up a frozen pizza in the oven.

“Now, I’m not going to stay the night or anything, because you’re an adult and you don’t need me here.” He said with only a little hint of mocking in his tone. “But I will probably still come check on you in the morning before I go to work.”

“Thanks.” Was all Nick could think to say. He was a little past the point of feeling defensive and angry at being treated like an invalid. Getting up those stairs had taken too much out of him.

Maybe tomorrow.

Tomorrow felt like a good day to go back to being a miserable son of a bitch.

Right now it was enough to just lay on the couch with his leg up, wishing there was some vodka in his orange juice.

Not that drinking was going to improve his situation, but Nick was an addictive sort of person and he missed the familiarity of it.

“There’s an old pack of cigarettes in the bottom of my dresser. What are the chances of you getting them for me?”

With a thoughtful look Castiel came over and sat beside him. “Not too good.” He admitted. “I tossed them yesterday while I was cleaning.”

“Bastard.”

Castiel shrugged, because it might have been an insult, but it was also the truth. “I think this is a good time for you to work on cleaning yourself up.”

Ah, so they were going to have this talk after all. Cassy was usually such a quiet, non aggressive guy, Nick had thought that they could avoid the whole thing all together. “Thanks for the opinion, doctor. But I didn’t ask.”

“I know. But you can’t exactly go to the store, so you’re at my mercy for the next few weeks.”

Which was vaguely ominous, but still… it was just Castiel. The kid wasn’t all that threatening, even when he tried his best.

“And once you realize how horrible it is cooped up here alone most of the time, I might be willing to let you come stay in my extra bedroom.”

Nick blinked, because that was some kind of offer that he hadn’t been expecting.

“I certainly have less stairs.” Castiel pointed out.

It was too generous and non malicious of an offer. “You know I’m awful to live with.”

“Yes. But you’re awful at a lot of things.” Cassy didn’t miss a beat. “It’s one of the reasons that everyone worries about you so much.”

“Yeah. Everyone.” He’d seen his sisters during his internment. Rekha visited fairly often, and Anna had come by a few times, bringing some ‘get well’ cards made by her kids, and another time to just sit there beside him and talk to him while she knitted away at a soft blue and green baby blanket (they were expecting another boy apparently). And Nick had been grateful for the non accusatory company. But the ladies paired with Castiel hardly constituted everyone. Not that Nick had wanted much more than that. Really.. just one more person. But he supposed that Sam calling to apologise, to come check on him, it was a bit too much to ask for in this kind of situation.

Castiel trailed a finger over the rough surface of Nick’s cast and it made a gravely noise.

“A few days ago we took a family vote on what to do with you this time.”

“Fantastic.” He said without feeling.

“They all thought that you’d be best off at Gabriel and Rekha’s.”

Nick looked around his apartment, taking it all in. All the glorious not being banished to his brother’s home that he was currently relishing in.  “So…”

“So? I like Rekha enough not to let that happen to her. You and Gabriel are terrible when you get together.”

“True, but I don’t think we’re talking right now. So Rekha would probably be safe enough.”

“He worries.” Castiel waved it off as a fact to simple to even embellish on, he’d always had a fairly good read on his brothers. “Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone. “I was supposed to give him a call when you got home.”

And Nick actually hated that Gabriel was worried about him. Like they couldn’t just have a fight like normal people. No. His brother had to use Castiel to check in on him. Like a painfully obvious spy.

Going to the kitchen, like the space made it less weird for Castiel to be talking about Nick while they were in the same room, the phone call was made.

“Hello.” Castiel said after what must have been only one ring. “Yes, we’re-  yes… he’s doing as well as can be expected. The drugs they put him on make him sleepy and agreeable.” Castiel had absolutely no shame in conducting this conversation only a few feet away. Listening to whatever Gabriel was saying with a slight smile at first, but that quickly faded into a frown. “I… _Both_ of them? I don’t think that is a good plan.”

Nick watched his brother trying to not look over at him, cradling the phone to his face like a shield as he started to pace.

“I know that you don’t care about what I think, but- but- _Gabriel_ -” it was rare to see Castiel getting angry. “ _Fine_. No. I won’t tell him. But if he tries to hit you later I won’t stop him.” And he hung up his phone without even saying goodbye.

“Why am I going to hit him?” Nick tried to approach the situation sideways. His little brother was known to be rather skilled at keeping his mouth shut when he wanted to.

The pizza got taken out of the over first, before any answers were offered, and even then, it wasn’t what Nick wanted to hear.

“He’s going to be over in about half an hour. You can figure it out from there.”

Half an hour felt like forever to wait. Nick filled the time with pizza, and watching a documentary on Netflix with Castiel. It was mildly distracting. He was almost able to ignore the fact that it actually took Gabriel closer to an hour to get his sorry ass over there.

Lots of rapid, annoying knocking came to his front door, and Nick looked warily over at it, then at Cassy.

“Are you going to get it, or wait and watch while I gimp over there?”

“I just want you to know that if you would like me to stay, I will stay-” Castiel stood and went to the door. “And if you want me to leave, I will leave. Ok?”

Which meant that apparently everything coming from his brother was going to be ominous from here on out. “Yeah, Cassy. I get it. You’re doing this under duress. I can handle Gabriel though.”

Castiel looked apologetically over at him before opening the door. In came Gabriel, followed by a young girl about a head shorter than him, and a woman more than a head taller than him.

Both females were blonde, tan, and rather pleasant to look at. And Nick hadn’t seen Lilith in years, but even still. He felt like he should have been able to recognize her before she spoke.

“Christ, Nick.” Her voice was the same. It hadn’t changed like the rest of her. Her nose was narrower, shorter, her lips fuller, cheekbones  and chin sharper. The woman had bought herself a whole new face in the last decade. Almost unrecognizable. But a psychotic bitch is still a psychotic bitch. No matter how pretty the new face they’re wearing. “What’d you do to yourself this time?”

He tugged on one of his sleeves, making sure that at least that part of the damage he’d done was well covered. “Cut myself shaving.” Which was the best reason for a broken leg that he could come up with, because if that was Lilith, that meant that the gorgeous little thing beside her was his daughter- and a fact like that left him more than a little stunned.

She was carrying a duffle bag over her shoulder, wearing jeans and flip flops and a shapeless sweater with the word ‘Graceland’ spelled out in faded letters over the front. Her cheeks were a bit red from the cold outside, and she was smiling at his apartment. Not at any of the adults. Just at the apartment. Sizing up the pale walls and sparse furniture.

“Is this the same place you lived last time I came to stay with you, Papa?” She had a voice like an angel.

“Yeah.” Nick, by contrast, sounded like he had something stuck in his throat.

“I remember it being bigger.”

“Well… you were a lot shorter back then.”

She contemplated this, her nose wrinkling just a bit, making her pale freckles shift, and when she suddenly grinned at Nick, she had slight dimples.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Nick found himself speechless. He also thought that he might be holding his breath, just waiting for her to say something else to him. It felt so unreal that after all this time she would just be here, in his living room, dumping her things by the front door and coming to sit on the arm of the couch beside him.

Even though she was practically twice the size that she’d been last time he saw her, she was still so tiny. Like a little doll. Hardly indenting the cushion with her weight.

“June,” Lilith said with a pointed sigh. “Like I said, you don’t have to stay. You’re still more than welcome to come with me.”

“Your new husband’s a creep, Mom.”

“Believe me, the old one was too.” She folded her arms under a fairly distracting set of breasts that she certainly hadn’t had a few years back. Money can buy all kinds of things apparently.

June glanced up at Nick with eyes as pale as the moon. It was a speculative look, like she was considering an expensive purchase and not sure if she liked the price.

Nick just looked back at her like a rabbit in headlights. He wanted to hug her, to hold her tight and reassure himself that she was real. That she was really here, and not some kind of fever dream brought on from the meds the doctors gave him.

How could she be so perfect?

How could two miserable, broken, sorry excuse for humans like him and Lilith make something like this?

“He looks ok to me.” June announced finally.

With a feeling like the man who had just inherited Texas, Nick looked over to his brothers, wanting to make sure that they’d heard it too. June thought that he looked ok. She wanted to stay with him-

But Gabriel had somehow managed to actually get himself into a rather animated, but very quiet argument with Castiel over in the vicinity of the short hallway that lead to the rest of the apartment. And Castiel wasn’t the easiest person to argue with. Most of the time he simply refused. Just too calm and reasonable to get easily riled up like his older brothers. But if anyone could get him going it seemed to be Gabriel.

Then again, Gabriel was most rational, calm people’s exception. He could probably make saints start throwing punches.

And for the life of him, Nick couldn’t figure out what they had to argue about. Because June was here. Really, really here. Nick had pretty much zero money at this point. No car. No boyfriend who cared enough to check in on him after two weeks of nothing-

But he had his daughter. And good god, there wasn’t a single thing in that moment that he could have wanted more.

“Baby girl, you’re going to change your mind real fast.” Lilith told her daughter with an air of authority that she had no business having. “I’m still going to stay the night, because after a few hours your gunna be real tired of son of a bitch and it will save me an extra trip out here to come get you.”

Nick looked over so fast it hurt his neck. “You’re _what_?” He’d almost completely forgotten about the horrible woman standing there in the middle of the room.

“I already talked it over with our lawyers-” She nodded towards Gabriel. “He said that you agreed to the terms, that it’s best for June to stay here stateside. Less adjusting for her to get used to you then she would have to have to get used to living overseas. But me, her loving mother, reserves the right to make sure that I’m leaving my babygirl in a safe place. That her deadbeat father is a changed man, and now suitable to be around kids.” She smiled a soft, venomous kind of smile. “I just don’t know if I can trust you again. Not after last time.”

Maybe no one else could hear it in her words, but she was threatening him. Openly telling him that she could take June back anytime she wanted to. He’d known her too long and too well to miss what she wasn’t quite saying.

And though Nick felt like himself, perhaps Castiel had been right about the medication they’d put him on making him sleepy and agreeable- because he didn’t immediately tell Lilith to fuck off.

Instead he looked over at June and offered her a smile. “Hi.”

She giggled. “Hi, papa.”

“Are you too old for hugs?” He asked hesitantly, not sure if he was overstepping the years distance between them. “Or do we not know each other well enough for me to ask?”

Without any kind of hesitation at all she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him so tightly that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

“I know you.” She assured him, all that long hair of hers tickling Nick’s face. It smelled like coconuts. “Uncle Gabriel talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” He pulled an arm around her shoulders. Hugging her significantly less tight, because he didn’t want to crush her, and also because the raw skin on his arms was still trying to scar over and hurt something awful. “He only told you good things I hope?”

“All the best things.” She leaned back from him enough to grin.

“Oh, I’m going to disappoint you something awful.” He whispered in confidence, trying not to laugh, but he was so happy right then he didn’t know how to hold it all in.

She put her hands on his cheeks, smooshing his face a bit. “No. You’re good. I can tell.”

He would have loved to know how she came to this decision, but he would happily settle for getting to keep her instead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's another part to this chapter which is more fluff. Gabriel and Nick arguing and other stupid things. It doesn't much advance any kind of plot, but I like it and might even post it. 
> 
> but I kind of like ending this story at this point. Something nice and kind of final feeling before getting a real ending from the big story.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... like I said the last time I updated this one, I thought that it ended kind of nicely- but then I updated The Boy Who, and started really wanting to write some of Nick's POV, just kind of him being really unsettled from Sam popping up now and then. I go and I open up the doc for this story, wanting to just kind of play around, not necessarily making anything was going to share- and I find this.   
> I don't even remember writing it.   
> But it made me smile.

 

It was a small apartment. Nick had always known that. But it had never quite dawned on him how unfunctionally small it really was up until the point that he found himself not living there alone. That first night he’d just taken the couch, letting June and Lilith have his bed because that seemed like the least weird of sleeping arrangements that he could come up with for the three of them. And aside from Lilith coming out some time in the odd hours of the early morning and propositioning Nick- the whole thing worked out rather well. 

He really did hate that woman, and was fairly certain that she still hated him as well. Try as he might, Nick couldn’t come up with a good explanation for why she had crawled into his lap and woken him up about as subtle as a crash of thunder.  She’d whispered some nonsense about ‘for old time sake’ and he’d rather graciously thrown her onto the floor- which technically still didn’t count as ever having hit her, so he was able to seek safety behind the locked bathroom door without any kind of guilt.

Sure, no one had touched him in a few weeks, and he had a craving for it something fierce- but that didn’t mean that he’d lost all rationality. The woman was still the devil as far as he was concerned and he would sooner chew off his own hands before he would touch her in the way she had suggested.

There was no dignity in hiding from his exwife, but if he’d stayed in the front room they would have started yelling at eachother, and Nick kind of really, really wanted not to do that in front of June if at all possible. 

Not long after he heard the front door opening, and a bit after that closing. Maybe the devil woman had left all on her own. 

Maybe she’d taken June with her.

Nick probably shouldn’t have thrown Lilith. He should have tried to reason with her.  But he’d been in a horrified panic, and frankly slightly nauseous at the suggestions coming from her. It was almost comforting to know that drug addled mind and his often traitorous body were able to agree on something so clearly for once.

He dared to peek his head out, bracing himself to look down the hall at his bedroom and see his bed empty, and the body sized bag that June had brought with her gone. 

The blankets had all been tossed, and definitely his daughter wasn’t in there- but as previously established, it was a rather small apartment. All Nick had to do was turn the other way to see the rest of his place and there she was, sitting sleepily at the table, practically swimming in that sweatshirt of hers, small hand clutched around a handful of crumpled bills. 

Lilith was at least wearing pants now, which was a great improvement over about half an hour ago when he’d last seen her. She said something softly to June before turning to Nick and giving him a fairly well deserved dirty look. It was only then that he realized she was wearing his favorite shirt.

“Hey.” He found himself leaning up against the wall for support since his right leg wasn’t going to be holding his weight for some time still.  “Get out of my shirt, turbo skank.” Which he’d always enjoyed calling her since high school. It was a satisfying kind of insult that he didn’t feel guilty for using in front of a kid. 

Knowing Lilith as well as he did, he should have known better than to make such a request, because she simply pulled off the shirt and threw it at him.

Nick just caught the damn thing and stood there slightly stunned as the woman walked past him, shamelessly bare breasted to go find the shirt she’d been wearing the night before.

He glanced over at June, not sure if he should apologise or just pretend that he hadn’t seen what he’d seen. 

June was yawning, dropping the cash onto the table. “She does that sometimes.”

“Does what?” The shirt in his hands was still warm to the touch and for some reason it made his skin crawl.

“Walks around naked. It’s weird, right?”

“That’s not quite the word I would use, but sure.”

She yawned again. “You don’t do it right?”

“Absolutely not.” And it wasn’t just because it was too cold. Nick also really enjoyed wearing clothes. 

“Nick doesn’t do anything interesting anymore.” Lilith came back out of the bedroom, her own little bag over a shoulder. “You’ve got your money, baby. When you change your mind you take a bus up to Grandma’s. She’ll keep you until me and Marco can get a place set up for you.”

“ _ Sure _ .” June said slowly, heavy emphasis on the middle of the word.

Lilith had the decency to look annoyed, then turned that disapproval in Nick’s direction. “I raised a real smart ass- even without your help. You two should get along great.” And there was nothing at all kind or benevolent in her tone. She really hoped that they were miserable together. 

Nick looked forward to proving her wrong. 

“Papa,” June asked once Lilith let herself out.

He started his slow and awkward hobble towards the kitchen, determined to make some kind of breakfast for the two of them. “Yeah?”

“Since I want to stay here, can we use my bus money to buy a puppy?”


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some people asking for more chapters of this- as well as some people saying that they didn't understand why Gabriel and Nick weren't talking over in The Boy Who.  
> I thought to myself, hey, I can easily fulfill both of these needs.  
> And then I wrote this chapter, and realized that I probably should not have.   
> It's oddly long, and really just more Nick being a big grumpy, miserable mess- but with the added enjoyment of him dragging his brothers down with him.  
> But it was created, so I put it here. 
> 
> Read if you will, you sadists.

 

For his birthday Castiel was going to get something really, really nice this year from Nick. The older man was rather determined to make it happen, because his baby brother had come up with a fantastic solution to the lack of space in Nick’s apartment. 

They would simply switch homes. 

Cas owned his house. It had a spare bedroom and a yard and all those kinds of good things that a kid like June probably needed. And he wasn’t asking for anything in exchange. He’d just come up with the idea on his own, and come over with some boxes, and a desire to help Nick pack. 

And Nick was a simple man, so he really didn’t have all that much stuff that he felt like taking with him. Clothes, violin, and books. The blanket that Sam had given him (which was not sentimental. It was just a really nice and warm blanket, and he liked it and everyone who wanted to look too hard into his keeping it could just buzz off).

Nick was left to the couch during packing, not able to do much, since he really couldn’t carry anything. He felt rather useless as he watched Castiel and June pull his books down from the shelves and tuck them away into brown boxes.

“Why don’t you have a tv, Papa?” June asked as she wrote on the side of the box with a sharpie. Labeling it very clearly as ‘more books’.

“I used to.” He shrugged. “It broke and I never got around to replacing it.” Simple enough.

She rolled her eyes and took another few books from Cassy. “There’s a tv at your place though… right?”

“Yes, but I just bought it a few weeks ago so I can watch movies with a friend of mine when he comes over.” He smiled an odd little smile. “And I will probably bring it over here with the rest of my stuff.”

“How am I going to watch basketball without a tv?”

Which got Castiel to actually laugh, glancing over at Nick in odd confusion like he couldn’t understand the words that she was saying, but still knew them to be a joke of sorts. 

Nick could only shrug again. Not at all sure if she was serious or not. “You can always come over here to watch the game with your uncle.” He awkwardly assured her, knowing full well that Castiel had never sat through any kind of sports game in his life, but would probably be willing to give it a try. 

Despite the fact that Gabriel had left in a huff a few days ago, without so much as a goodbye- Castiel did not seem to share in any of this ‘Nick is making things worse again’ mentality. He actually was incredibly supportive about the whole thing. Not that they’d actually sat down and talked about it, or anything so formal, but the fact that he was here, and offering them a home, said more than any words they could have shared.   

They kind of talked loosely about things, about how Nick needed to get June registered in school, and added to his health insurance and so many little things that he’d not really considered. 

And Nick loved it. He loved the normalcy, and mundane nature. It made the whole thing feel even more real to him for some reason. 

He was happily getting into a loose argument with his daughter, about what they should have for lunch (because she wanted sushi, and what kind of ten year old wants sushi? If Nick was going to pay for fish it had better be well cooked), when they were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Gabriel whining outside the door. 

“I told you I don’t want to.” Were the first and last decipherable, and muffled words out of him before the door was popped open and Gabriel shoved inside. He stumbled only a little, and then looked over his shoulder accusingly at his wife. 

“We brought you some Thai food.” She announced easily, gesturing to the bag her husband was holding.

“ _ She _ brought you Thai food.” Gabriel corrected, and dropped the bag on the coffee table. “If it was up to me I would be at home still enjoying my day off, and not having to look at your ugly face.”

Nick flipped him off kind of casually alongside his neck, pretending to scratch an itch in a way that he hoped his daughter wouldn’t see.

Which seemed fairly effective, because all June’s attention was on Rekha, who was well worth looking at. “Uncle Gabriel,” she said in a transfixed kind of way. “Is this the girl you like, that you were telling me about?”

“She is.” In a second Gabe was, peacefully ignoring Nick, smiling at June and coming closer to peek into the boxes they had set aside. 

“She’s even prettier than you said.” June informed him in a tone that was almost a lecture.

Rekha laughed in a gentle, pleased way and went into the kitchen to dig through Nick’s mismatched collection of silverware. 

“They didn’t make words in this language strong enough to describe her.” Gabriel apologised. “I did the best I could.” 

June nodded in an understanding, but still kind of awed sort of way.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Rekha came over with a handful of forks, “I would accuse you two of rehearsing that all in hopes of getting something from me.”

“I would  _ never _ .” Gabriel managed to look wounded.

“And I don’t know you well enough yet.” June added with an almost innocent smile. Almost. 

“Oh wonderful.” Rekha sighed, setting the forks down beside the bag of food, before wrapping her arms in a firm chokehold around Nick’s throat and head region. And Rekha always smelled faintly of smoke and sandalwood and vanilla, warm and welcoming. “She takes after you and Gabe.”

Awkwardly, Nick slipped an arm around her shoulders, half returning the hug, half just enjoying the simple pleasure of having a spectacular set of breasts pressed against his cheek. It was a testament to how much respect that he had for this woman in the rather subtle way that he resisted the urge to kiss some of that soft warm skin.  It also spoke volumes as to how much he missed being touched after only a few weeks out from the last time that he’d seen Sam. 

In the end it would only be one more addiction that he would need to kick. And craving a rather oddly specific man’s touch had to be easier to get over than the perpetual thirst that he couldn’t seem to shake. 

“I think she’s perfect.” He said in a rather muffled voice, defending his daughter against any accusations that she might be even half the trouble that him and Gabriel were when they were her age. 

Compartmentalisation. 

That’s what he needed now.

Rather reluctantly he let go of his sister in law, giving her a smile that she might buy.  

“You sound just like your father.” With an almost sympathetic smile, Rekha patted his cheeks. “You’re even starting to look like him. When was the last time you shaved?”

“Maybe… three days ago?” He sort of shrugged, reeling a bit at the strange kind of compliment that he’d just been paid. 

No one would have ever considered giving Chuck a father of the year award. He’d been painfully awkward, and all together clueless on how to raise his trio of sons. Most nights they’d had canned spaghetti for dinner while they sat around the table struggling to figure out homework assignments together. 

The man wasn’t perfect. But he’d been there, and he tried, and for a couple of kids that no one else wanted, he’d been a savior.

Flaws and all.

Dad was a role model that Nick thought he could live up to.

He could be here, and he could attempt to do right by June, and he could still be a bit of a mess.

If that’s all the world was going to ask of him, he could sure as hell try.

He felt a considerably more hopeful smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. 

“Just… no beard, ok?” Rekha sat down beside him, handing over a box of Cashew Chicken that smelled just spicy enough to keep it safe from Gabriel’s hungry gaze. “Your brother grew that awful one last summer, I still have nightmares about it.”

June peered into the bag filled with its many nondescript white boxes. “I think you’d look nice with a beard, Papa. Like a lumberjack.”

Nick chuckled, because oddly, looking like some kind of scruffy woodsman was not a goal of his.

“You would hate it after a while.” Rekha told her niece rather confidently. “He’d always smell like whatever he’d been eating. Two days after a barbecue- you would still be able to taste the smoke on him.”

June giggled. “Were you tasting Uncle Gabriel’s beard?”

“Trust me, I didn’t want to. It just kind of happens when you kiss someone. It was awful and for almost three weeks I had to withhold…  _ kisses _ , until he finally shaved the terrible thing off.” She continued on in a rather unshaken kind of way. “Do you like Pad Thai?”

And June did. She even made a point to say thank you, but didn’t let it get in the way of reminding Nick that she still wanted sushi at some point and he would have to just get brave enough to eat raw fish.

It wasn’t a prospect that he was looking forward to, so he focused on the pleasant meal at hand. Good food. Good company. 

Well, semi good company. 

Everyone except Gabriel. Gabriel who hadn’t even looked at him since a vague insult he’d dropped along with the lunch, before making some room between them. Rather like a petulant child, Gabriel spent the meal over at the table by himself, curled sullen around his food- either upset simply for the fact that he had to be here around Nick who he was still angry at,  _ or _ pouting because he really had enjoyed having a beard and always got a bit sore when Rekha brought up how much she hated it. It was anyone’s guess at this point.

And now was not the time for it, because Nick was sort of enjoying being surrounded by all but a handful of his favorite people, and somehow managing not to have any stupid arguments- but to be honest, he’d liked the beard.

Though if Nick had had to choose between a beard or…  _ kisses _ , he would have shaved too.

Chewing a little slower, he tried his best not to let himself wonder how Sam would have felt about him being a bit more scruffy than usual. If there would be threats, and withheld kisses and then the things that tended to come after kisses. Those had been some of NIck’s favorite things.

Which was not at all a helpful path for his thoughts to wander down at this moment. Perhaps later tonight when he knew that June was in bed and asleep and he took one of his over long, hot showers, then he could let his mind dwell. But not right now. 

Right now people were talking, and he was managing not to hear a single damn word of it.

“Are you saying that your…  _ mom _ ,” Rekha hesitated over the word like she’d never considered actually using such a definition on a woman like Lilith, “didn’t even remember to have you pack a jacket.”

June looked over with a mouthful of noodles. “I’ve got this jacket now. I’m ok.” She flapped the overly long, pushed up sleeves of the plaid flannel that she was wearing. She’d pulled it out of Nick’s basket of clean laundry her second day with him and he hadn’t been willing to tell her that it didn’t belong to him in the first place. Telling her that Sam must have forgot it last time he was here would only inevitably lead to having to explain who Sam was. 

And Papa having a boyfriend wasn’t a talk that he was ready to have with his daughter yet. There was still some paranoia that it would be a deal breaker. That the information might get back to Lilith and the devil woman would find a way to use it against him

“You need a real coat, June.” The woman elaborated. “And shoes, not sandals. It gets cold out here. And if you’re going to be moving into Castiel’s house we will need a new bed for you too.”

“I’ve got  _ some  _ clothes... But my own bed would be really cool. Papa’s bed is lumpy.”

“You two have been sharing a bed?” Gabriel asked slowly, his bright eyes darting to Nick in a rather uncomfortable kind of allegatio.

“I sleep on the couch.” He said rather quickly, not liking whatever implication there was. Bristling at whatever it was that his brother was trying to say.

“Of course you do.” Rekha rested a hand on his knee for a moment, soothing Nick all the while shooting a dirty look over at her husband. “But the couch is too small for Nick, and I love shopping.” She squeezed his knee and turned to look at June. “I was thinking it would be nice to have a girl’s day, just me and you, none of these weird old men.” She waved a hand at the three brothers- none of which rose to defend themselves against the name calling. “We’ll get you some things of your own-  blankets and towels and all that other stuff that my newest niece should not have to be sharing with her dad, who was never very good at sharing his things in the first place.”  

Which was as tender of an offer as Castiel wanting to trade houses. Even if they were the only two members of his family who had taken his side in this whole thing- Nick felt a swell of warmth and gratitude towards them.

June seemed absolutely thrilled at the offer, and shoved a few more bites of food into her cheeks, hardly chewing, before she was ready to go. Informing them all as she hunted down her flip flops, that she wanted a bed with drawers under it so that when she got her puppy she could use one of them as a puppy nest. 

“I did not know that you were going to be buying her a dog.” Castiel said slowly once the front door had closed behind the women. 

“Discussions began about a week back.” Nick stretched, trying not to smile. “She’s rather persuasive- but I’m holding out, hoping that I can get her to settle for a fish instead.”

“You hate dogs.” Gabriel said without looking over, curled around a box of noodles  that he’d refused to share with anyone, even his wife.

“I hated the dog that you tried to hide in our room when we were twelve.” Nick corrected. “It pissed on my bed and ate my favorite pair of shoes.”

“They were ugly shoes- and they smelled like your feet. Trust me, that dog did us all a favor.”

“Hey, I don’t come in your house and insult your shoes.”

“Yes you do.”

Nick snorted softly. “Yes I do.” It felt good to be talking to Gabriel again. The man wasn’t exactly his favorite person. Mainly because Gabriel wasn’t anyone’s favorite person. But he was one of the few people who could put up with half of the garbage that Nick tried to pull. In fact, over the years, more often than not Gabriel had been there beside Nick, cheering him on, or keeping a lookout for the cops. 

And more than once, Nick had returned the favor. 

“So,” Gabe stabbed away with his fork. “ This might shock you, but I didn’t actually come here to help you pack. Rekha thinks that we need to have a  _ talk _ \- and when she comes back if I can’t at least say I told you to fuck off, then she’s going to get real mean when we get home tonight.”

There were four boys in their family. 

Michael was a self righteous prick. Humorless and cold- until you got to know him, and then you realized he was really just a big bag of dicks.

Nick was a caustic mixture of stubborn pride and self loathing. At any given point, about three heartbeats away from finding some new and creative way to screw himself over.

Castiel was full of hope. Quiet and trusting. Loyal to a fault.

And then there was Gabriel. He’d always danced to his own tune. Alive and vibrant, clinging to defiance like it was the last virtue of mankind. The man didn’t give two fucks what anyone else thought. Unless that person happened to be his wife. He’d move mountains for that woman.

He’d even come to his brother’s house and try to be civil.

“Go ahead. Out with it.” Nick made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Well, maybe not  _ civil _ .

Castiel sighed deeply and stood, collecting up the empty food stained containers and silverware, and anything else he could manage that put him as clearly not part of this conversation.

Nick was in this alone. Which was fine. He knew the script. “Gee, Gabriel. I missed you too.”

“I told you- I told you back in the hospital when you asked me to buy you a kid, that this was a bad idea and I wouldn’t be part of it.”

“What  _ bad _ ? I’m happy. June is happy.  Lilith is fucking overseas. This is good, for the first time in my life. I’m good.”

“Cassy told me all about what he found in your violin case.” The man had no tack. 

He also had a stunning knack for saying the wrong things. 

Now, Nick hadn’t been aware of the fact that Castiel had been rooting around in his things. Not even sure when the guy had managed to find the time. “He found my... violin?”

“He found a wedding ring, you ass.”

Which was just fantastic. 

He’d really sort of been hoping to keep that one to himself. Take it to his grave infact. This was not a matter that he’d ever wanted to have a family intervention over.

“See, that’s what happens when you go digging around in a man’s stuff.” Nick pointedly did not look over at his youngest brother who was rather thoroughly scrubbing away at something in the sink like he meant to annihilate it. “You find things you aren’t supposed to find.”

Gabriel poked at his food with a finger, clicking his tongue softly. “Poor little Cassy comes to me when you’re still  drugged up in the hospital- tells me how he’s ‘ _ very concerned for your emotional well being _ ’.” Gabriel did a rather remarkable Castiel impression. “Apparently the night of your accident you were making up nonsense about why you couldn’t be with your towering Samsquach anymore-   but our dear, sweet, misguided brother knows you were just making up excuses when the truth of the matter is because you’re still apparently very much in love with Lilith.”

First, Nick made a retching noise. The very suggestion laid out here making his stomach turn and suddenly the Thai food wasn’t sitting well with him one bit. Once the moment had passed and he was sure that he would be able to keep his meal down, he threw a couch cushion into the kitchen, watching it fall short of actually hitting his brother.  “Are you insane?”

Castiel looked back, a wet sponge held tightly in his hand. “I found a ring. What was I supposed to think?”

“You could have given me some credit- maybe not assumed that I’d lost my god damned mind.”

“Don’t worry. I explained it to him. “ Gabriel used his fingers to dig a snowpea from his box of sweet rice, tossing it down onto a napkin like it had insulted him. “Explained how it couldn’t have possibly been  _ your  _ wedding ring, because I was with you when you threw it out ages ago. Which leaves us with an interesting question- why, oh why would Nick have a gold ring hidden away if it’s not his?”

He asked it like he already knew. 

Castiel on the other hand apparently still hadn’t figured it out. It was that tender innocence again. Standing there, looking between his big brothers with a lost kind of expression in his big, dark eyes. 

“You didn’t buy it for yourself.” Gabriel found a piece of pineapple, which he ate rather loudly. “You bought it to give to someone else. Someone  _ special.  _ Our little Nick decided to overreact to some little girly crush that he’d got- and then he decided to freak out about it and hide it away under a bunch of alcohol and bad choices… just like usual.”

Castiel looked from one of them to the other, confusion giving way to a bright smile that lit up his whole face. “You were going to give it to  _ Sam _ .” Like it was the sweetest thing that he’d ever heard.

“Christ, don’t encourage him.” Gabriel butted in.

“Hey, no one is encouraging anyone here. There’s nothing to encourage.”  Nick tried to defend himself, because he hated, absolutely  _ hated _ when his family talked about him like this. Like he wasn’t in the room with them. 

With a suffering kind of sigh, Gabriel let his head fall back. “You do know that there is a definite line between ‘ _ we’re so happy for you _ ’ and ‘ _ what do you mean, you’re getting married? You hardly know each other _ ’. Huge, elephantine, never to be crossed line, you impulsive whaco.”

“I don’t know if either of you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly engage to anyone here.” He felt a need to point out, because apparently this simple fact had slipped everyone’s mind.

But Gabriel wouldn’t be shaken off so easily. “How long have you even known Sam?”

Nick groaned, narrowing his eyes as he did some quick math. “I met him… November eighth so, I don’t know… a hundred and forty-six… forty-five days? But we haven’t spoken in weeks now-”

“A few  _ months _ .” Gabriel said with too many teeth showing. “Normal people say a few months. They don’t count it in days.”

“So what? So it’s been  _ months _ ? The day we met Rekha you told everyone who would listen to you that you were going to marry her.”

“And then I waited for fifteen years! Because you don’t marry someone you’ve just met.” This was Gabriel talking. Gabriel who’d gotten kicked out of a petting zoo last summer for trying to stack the goats. This was the man who was giving advice on how to make responsible decisions. 

“Again,” Nick’s head was hurting, “are you just choosing to deliberately overlook the fact that I’m  _ not  _ engaged here- much less not even dating anyone?”

Gabriel gave him a long, hard look. 

“I changed my mind, you little gremlin. I’m allowed to change my mind.” That sick feeling was coming back. “You should be congratulating me on realizing how stupid I was being before I really fucked things up.”

With a shake of his head, Gabriel turned in his chair and pulled out his phone. Dismissive as possible without actually leaving the room. But he didn’t need to say anything. Nick knew him well enough. 

As far as Gabriel was concerned, Nick had already gone beyond redemption on this one. He hadn’t dodged a bullet. He was bleeding out. And there was no way that Gabriel was going to help him.

Only- Nick didn’t feel that way. Sure. He was a bit optimistic in saying that he was ‘happy’. He was thrilled to have June in his life. He was hopeful. He felt like maybe he was pointed in the right direction for the first time in years. 

So what if it felt a little lonely? 

It would pass. 

Lonely couldn’t last forever.

And Nick believed that, because he had to. Because the idea of Sam somewhere else, happy and doing well without him made him happy by proxy. 

That’s what happens when you fall in love with someone. You want them to be happy, with or without you.

At least, he was fairly certain that’s how it was supposed to work.

He’d never really had any one qualified sit him down and explain it.

“I- I know that no one has asked my opinion.” Castiel said quietly, turning off the sink and drying his hands on a dishtowel. “But I’ve always felt that you and Sam were rather good for eachother.”

“Sam got Nick to drive his bike into a van.” Gabriel said without looking up from whatever game he was playing. “They were just  _ fantastic  _ for eachother.”

“That was all me. Don’t you dare blame Sam for it.” Nick surprised himself.

“You fall in love with someone you don’t know, realize that he probably isn’t as into you as you are to him, and then you get your little broken heart drunk and almost kill yourself. Excuse me if I want to spread that blame around a little. You were erratic enough before you met him. He hasn’t exactly been a comforting pair of arms for you to run to when you decided it was time to drink yourself back into the rehab wing of the hospital. You’re almost as bad now as you were when Lilith left you.”

The breath that he was holding started to burn in Nick’s lungs. “Gabriel, come over here.”

“...why?” He slowly looked up from his phone, reluctant, curious.

“Because I want to break your nose, but my leg hurts too much to walk over there.”

“Tempting-” he half sang, like these kinds of threats were normal and nothing to worry about. “But this candy crush level isn’t going to beat itself.” 

And Nick would just have to satisfy himself with imagining the satisfactory feeling of pounding that smile off his brother’s face.

“You’re wrong you know.” Castiel added after the uncomfortable silence had just about climbed to its peak. “About Sam. He’s very…  _ into  _ Nick.  You never got to see how they would look at each other, Gabriel. It’s the same way that you look at Rekha.”

Which actually hurt Nick to hear. Physically hurt, but he pushed it down into that dark corner of his mind that had been labeled with with a big neon ‘ _ I’m not fucking dealing with this right now _ ’ sign.

“It’s, uh, great that you’re head of the fan club, Cassy. But Sam… changed his mind.” Which was the biggest lie that he’d told in what felt like forever- but Nick was rather confident that Sam would get there. And it’s not technically a lie if it’ll be true in the future. Those are the rules.

“He ‘ _ changed his mind _ ’? Is that your subtle way of saying that you actually had the balls to asked him to be your man-wife and he gave you a big old hells no?” Gabriel kept a straight face for about two whole seconds before he just started cackling. Kicking his stupid little feet like this was the funnest thing that he’d ever heard. “Did he let you down gently at least?”

Even though it hurt like a real son of a bitch, Nick dragged himself to his feet, gripping the edge of the couch for support, he made his way rather menacingly towards his brother. 

Gabriel’s eyes went a little wide as he scrambled out of his chair and ran to hide behind Castiel, using the taller man like a human shield. “Oh come on, Nick. I’m joking. I’m  _ joking _ ! You’re a real peach- anyone would have to be out of their mind not to want to be stuck with a prince like you until death do you part. I’m sure he just got cold feet.”

“I didn’t ask him-” Nick had made it at far as the counter, but didn’t think that he’d be able to maneuver around the rather nervous looking Castiel to get at the man clinging to the wrong side of him like a coward. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business. So get off my back about it.”

“Again, not that anyone seems to care what I think about all of this-” Castiel did his best to keep Gabriel  hidden from Nick’s view. “But if you never asked Sam, so he never said no- but you two just suddenly aren’t together any more, then this sounds an awful lot like those other times when things would be going really well for you and then suddenly they wouldn’t be and you’d start drinking again and refusing to talk to any of us.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nick would much rather be mad only at Gabriel, but it was hard when they were both ganging up on him. 

“Like when you dropped out of school after being accepted into the master’s program.” Castiel suggested far too quickly.

“I- I wasn’t going to have time for school with the baby on the way. I was being responsible.”

“Or when you were offered that promotion when you were in the Marines and you submitted your discharge papers instead.”

“I didn’t want to make it a career.” Nick hated having to defend himself. Especially against Castiel, who was just looking up at him with such a vulnerable, earnest expression. 

Gabriel peered around his brother’s shoulder. “Or that friend of yours who offered you that disturbingly good paying job restoring cars.”

“I’m not old enough to retire to Arizona quite yet. And all my family’s out here.” Though why he’d chosen to stay was beyond him at this point. 

“And then there was that time that you were dating a really nice guy who made you stupidly happy, and then you broke up with him for no reason.” Castiel had never been accused of being subtle.

“I told you. He changed his mind.” 

But Castiel didn’t look like he was buying this line.

Not even for a second.

And Nick felt himself caving. He’d never been all that good at lying to his little brother. There was just something so open and honest about the kid that made you feel dirty if you didn’t return the favor. “Well, he was going to.”

And that open, sweet look in Castiel’s eyes turned painful. “ _ Nick _ -”

“I was going to ask him this summer if he wanted to…  _ you know _ , and he would have said yes.” He knew. Nick knew it as sure as he knew that the sun would rise. “But he’s young and impulsive and thinks that he’s in love with me and after a few months or years he would have gotten over it... It’s better for both of us this way.” What an awful thing to say outloud. And hearing it, not just thinking it, but really hearing it for the first time... Nick realized how completely self destructive it really sounded. 

That didn’t mean he was going to take it back, because he was a realist, and he honestly believed the words that he was saying. 

“Sweet baby Jesus, Luci.” Gabriel apparently had reached maximum bull shit at this point. “You’re really going to just kamakazi your way through yet another relationship, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m curious though, when you just decide that at some point in the future that June is just young and impulsive and doesn’t actually love you either- are you just going to break up with her too?”

“Shut up.”

“How does that work? I mean, do you just send her back to Lilith- or is there a chance to call dibs here?”

“Will you fucking shut up for once in your life?” 

“And if that’s how it works, can I just have Sam too? Because if you’re not going to take that sweet ass of his for any more rides-”

Nick lunged, pushing Castiel out of the way to grab hold of the little bastard behind him. And even though it had been years since he’d let himself do it, punching Gabriel felt just as good as he remembered. But unlike last time, they had a third party involved, and for whatever reason, Castiel didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about standing aside and watching a disemboweling.

He didn’t pull them apart so much as just got between them, trusting that neither of his brothers would be willing to actually hit him. And when that didn’t work so well Castiel pulled out plan B- which was hugging. Or at least what an outside observer would call hugging. For Nick it was like suddenly being caught up in a vicegrip, all the air squeezed out of him and all the weight of his brother catching him off balance to the point that he found himself too occupied with slamming his hands down onto the counter so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Damn it, Cassy.” He squeezed the words out with his last bit of air.

“No. I promised Rekha I wouldn’t let you kill him.”

The  _ him _ in question had the back of a hand to his nose, trying to slow the flow of startlingly red blood.  “When your ex came to visit did you specifically ask her to give you lessons on how to hit like a two cent gutter slut,”  his teeth were dark and gruesome as he grinned, “or are you just finally losing your touch?”

Nick got an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and felt the death grip ease just a hint.  “I’m not going to kill him- I’m just going to crack his skull against the fridge.”

“We’re trading houses, so technically it’s my fridge now and I’d like it not to have a dent in it the size of Gabriel’s head.” Castiel said in such a deathly serious voice. “It’s a very large head.”

“Your sympathy here is smothering, Cassy.” Gabriel snagged up the dish towel and pressed it to the middle of his face.

“I love you both, but the two of your are the dumbest smart people that I’ve ever known.” Castiel kept his arms locked, just trusting that he was holding back the only brother who could manage to do any real damage here. “Gabriel, stop antagonizing Nick- and Nick, stop trying to make yourself the king of your own lonely island. Society will not crumble if you actually let yourself be happy every once in awhile.”

He managed a handful of his brother’s shirt, tugging him this way and that- trying to shake some sense into the man. “I  _ am _ happy. Why won’t anyone believe me?”

“Because we know you?” Gabriel suggested. 

“I hate you guys so much.” Nick heard himself sigh.

Castiel’s head felt heavy on his shoulder. “No you don’t.” 

“I hate myself.” He corrected listlessly. 

“Yes, you do.”

Well, as long as they could all agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter over here is just going to be Sam and Nick sitting on the beach teasing each other and petting a dog.
> 
> And then maybe a completely pointless one of them laying in bed and kissing. No plot, no nothing. Just the kissing part.
> 
> It will be good for all of us.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what? Another chapter, and so soon? Like I said, I had a need to write some fluff for these boys. They earned it. I earned it. 
> 
> Enjoy the stupid  
> and the typos. 
> 
> I love you guys in a distant and platonic kind of internet-noncreepy way. I'm glad we found each other and something so incredibly stupid to share.

Keeping the straightest face possible, Nick took one of the chocolate dipped ice cream cones from Sam’s too big hands. “I  _ was  _ joking you know.” 

“I totally wasn’t.” June snatched one up too, eyes so big and eager. 

“You’re both welcome, and your Papa can buy us all lunch later.” Sam nodded in Nick’s direction with a meaningful look.

So Nick nodded along. It seemed like a fair enough trade, but he couldn’t manage to get the words out because Sam was licking his sweating ice cream with long, slow swipes of his tongue. And good god, it proved to be a distracting sight. He put a heavy hand on his daughter’s head and started her walking away from the food stand. Sam followed. He could feel the warmth of the other man somewhere off to his left. Distracting even when he was out of Nick’s line of sight. 

Too much walking had already happened today, and he found that stepping around erratically to keep from kicking Meatball was taking whatever energy he had left. Maybe the doctor was right, and Nick should be taking things easy- but he’d never been all that good at following directions, so he tugged June along about halfway down the Boardwalk until he found an empty bench to sink down into. His ankle was killing him, the muscles trembling and the join almost too weak to hold his weight. That’s just how things went though. He just needed to rest a bit. God, but he felt like he was getting old.

“You doing ok, Papa?” June asked with a crunchy mouthful of sugar cone, already having finished off the ice cream portion of her treat. 

“Yeah… your face is a mess.” How one child and one ice cream cone could make such an unholy wreck in such a short period of time was beyond him. 

“Well, your hand is a mess.” She countered. “You have to  _ eat  _ the ice cream, not just hold it.”

“It would have been nice if you’d told me that earlier.” He awkwardly passed his rather sticky cone to the same hand that was holding onto the dog’s leash. There was some attempt to lick the trail of vanilla from the backs of his fingers, but June just looked disgusted. 

“I’ll go get you some napkins.”

“Don’t get… lost,” he called out to his already disappearing offspring. 

Sam sank down beside him on the bench. “You think she’s having fun?” 

Nick chuckled. “She’s been looking forward to this for weeks. It’s all she talked about.” But that wasn’t exactly what he’d been asked, so he tried again.  “Yeah. I think she’s having fun.” He glanced over at Sam to see that the man still had half his ice cream left.

He’d been carefully working away at it, all the chocolate shell gone, and the soft white vanilla shaped into a rather smooth and perfect cone by the patient work of that mouth of his. 

Too perfect. 

It was almost insulting to normal humans like Nick who could find endless ways to make a mess of such a simple treat. So, not really thinking, or worrying about the fact that his actions were horribly inappropriate, Nick leaned over and took a sloppy bite right out of the side of the other man’s ice cream. 

“Hey!” Sam looked on helpless, but laughing. “Jerk- eat your own.”

“Yours was prettier.” He said like it was an excuse, wanting to laugh, though he couldn’t voice it because he could see how Sam was watching his mouth. 

And Nick was almost positive that the kid had no idea what he was doing to him. Sam was too innocent and gentle to be intentionally stirring him up. They were long and far past this point in their non-relationship. 

It had been months since they’d stopped seeing each other. Months of being sober and figuring out just what the hell he was supposed to be doing with his life. Not bad months. But lonely kinds of months, at least where Nick was concerned. Lonely enough that he’d decided that maybe the time had come for him to swallow his pride and angst down and to reach out for a little bit of company.

Not that June wasn’t wonderful. 

But the simple pleasure of being able to look the person he was talking to, square in the eye, should not be overlooked.

There wasn’t a technical name for what he and Sam were now… maybe  _ friends.  _  Though the word didn’t sit quite right. But they’d fallen right back together like they’d never been apart, laughing and joking in the car on the drive out here. As easy and unavoidable as gravity. Too comfortable with each other for Nick to call the man his ex- because he’d never had any good feelings at left after his many and colorful other broken relationships. 

He supposed the difference was, a stupid and as obvious as it sounded, Sam had never been as ass to him. Not when it counted. It was hard to be mad at someone who only held good memories for you.

And as much as he dreaded it, Nick had a feeling that they’d come back around to where they were when they’d first met. 

Awkward and tentative, giving each other far more space than really necessary, and somewhere underneath that, interested. 

At least  _ he  _ was interested. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be. Didn’t want to be. Really, really would like to stop having these thoughts about this man sitting here beside him, smiling with those damn perfect dimples of his, and his knee almost touching Nick’s. But it was hard to keep his thoughts unbiased and pure when he knew that Sam smiled the exact same way when he was on his back and naked.

The napkins that June brought him helped a little- to clean himself up and to distract himself.  

“Can we have hotdogs for lunch?” June asked as she leaned over to pet Meatball’s head.

For the smallest moment, Nick let himself think about what it would be like to watch Sam eating a hot dog. Just for a second or two. Not any longer because it certainly wasn’t a helpful kind of thought. His eyes caught on one of the many, many little restaurants dotting the Boardwalk between rides, “I was thinking maybe chilli cheese fries.” 

Which apparently was a passable enough suggestion, because June was willing to take some of his cash, along with Sam, and leave him alone on the bench to go get real lunch.

Nick gave the uneaten mess that was his ice cream over to the dog who was more than happy to help, wiggling her fat little tail as she snorted and licked his fingers. And Nick hadn’t been the most enthusiastic pet owner to date. He found that he had a hard enough time taking care of himself, much less a kid and a small ball of fur. But she was upsettingly cute, and June was very good at taking her on walks and cleaning up after her, so really all Nick had to do was buy food, and then spoil her. 

He liked spoiling the dog almost as much as he liked spoiling his daughter. Simple pleasures. 

Once the shaking his his leg had lessened enough to walk again (not that he was telling either of the people with him how bad it really was), he suggested that they go back down to the beach. He wanted to give June as much time as possible to run herself to exhaustion- which she seemed only too eager to do. 

Only, Nick hadn’t anticipated Sam wanting to go for a swim too. He’d sort of wanted the chance to just sit in the sand with the other man and tease him. But no. Sam had to go and take off his damn clothes and  run out to sea. Sure, he’d been wearing surprise trunks under his jeans- but Nick hadn’t known that at first. He’d just looked over to see the man stripping. Like a deer in headlights, Nick just sat there staring at all those lovely lines of hard muscles- him and roughly twenty other people who happened to be near enough to witness such a beautiful sight. 

They left him in the sand, and Nick found that he was ok, because the perceived solitude helped him sort through the fact that he wasn’t fourteen years old any more- not that his body really felt like remembering that fact. 

Maybe that was his problem. 

It wasn’t just that he needed a friend… needed some kind of company because humans weren’t made to be alone. 

Nick also needed someone to touch him. 

And Sam had always, always been rather good at touching him. 

Except he couldn’t have Sam for both of those things. He knew himself well enough to know that much. It wasn’t like he’d never slept around. Casual sex had been pretty much the only thing on the menu for him for years- and it had been kind of fantastic in it’s simple design. 

Just with Sam… Nick cared about him too much to do casual. And he cared about himself too much to go back to what they’d had before. 

So… friends. 

Just friends. 

Because anything more than that and Nick would be asking Sam to move in with him. They’d be picking out curtains together and whatever else it was that stupid couples do when they’re blissfully blinded by each other and then Nick wouldn’t know what to do with himself when it all fell apart. He’d be more of a wreck then than he was now- more than he’d been these past months. And he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.  

But friends were good.

He just needed to keep some distance between them. Not keep finding ways to remind himself of all those subtle but vast differences in things this time around. Of the calculating kind of distance that they were keeping from each other. The hesitation in being too near, the little pauses after they said very normal things, like they were second guessing every little joke.  

The object of all his conflicting feelings planted himself down to Nick’s left, water beaded on his skin, hair dark and clinging to the back of his neck.

“You… really seem to be having a good time.” He said in the most off handed way that he could, rather pointedly not looking at the curve of Sam’s arms or the thin trail of hair down his stomach.

“I was never a big fan of the beach. I’m not much of a swimmer.” He stretched his legs out long in front of him, sand clinging to the backs of his calves. “But this is… it’s nice.”

“Oh,  _ nice _ ,” he stressed the word with a chuckle. “Don’t oversell it there.”

He shrugged, squinting into the bright sun. “I mostly just here for June.”

“Same.” A crowded beach in the middle of a summer day would never be his first choice of a vacation. “Did you just leave her out there?”

“She’s fine.” Sam waived it off like a man who’d never felt overwhelming and possessive fear for a child of his own. “Right over there.”

_ Fine  _ was a loose term. Those boys were talking to June again. The ones who had been helping her build her lopsided sand castle. And he wondered if Sam’s offer to chase them down and help Nick feed them to a pelican was still on the table. Good god, but he’d only just got a daughter. He wasn’t ready for boys to be taking notice of her yet. She was just too pretty for her own good. Just like her mother had been- only June didn’t seem to know it, which made her infinitely a better human than Lilith had ever been. 

“I wish I’d had an ugly child.”

Sam laughed, warm and open. “With your genes? I don’t think it was an option.”

“Aw, shucks.”

“She’s got your smile.”

“You think I’ve got a pretty smile?” He just barely managed to resist the urge of elbowing the man in the ribs. There would be far too much bare skin on skin, which was to be avoided at all cost. 

Sam kept on laughing.

“You think I could pull of those shorts half as well as she does?”

The other man pretended to consider this, a thoughtful expression passing over his face. “Well, you’ve definitely got the legs for them. But I don’t know if the world is ready.”

Nick grinned, eyes still tracking his daughter’s movements as she walked back and forth with those boys who were so obviously trouble. “I think she’s actually really lucky that she looks almost nothing like me.”

“She’s so much like you it’s scary.”

“Really?” He finally let himself look over, reluctant to stop his distant supervision of June’s interactions. 

“Except for that Elvis thing.” Sam made some hesitant eye contact and it was most welcome. Warm comfortable gaze under the hot, hot sun. “It’s… weird for someone her age, right? Or is The King making a comeback and I missed it?”

Nick smiled, rubbing the back of a thumb over his lip to half hide any hint of amusement. “As far as I’ve been able to piece together, her mom spent the last three years working as a showgirl at a casino that had an Elvis tribute…  _ thing  _ at it pretty much every night. Lil didn’t want to pay for a baby sitter, and June was a little too old anyways, so she tagged along and hung out backstage. Those Elvises were apparently very… nice to her. Like dads when she didn’t have one. Apparently they’d help her with her homework, and sometimes their wives would make cupcakes for her.” It had taken him quite some time to figure that all out. Puzzling it together from off handed stories that June would tell from time to time. “I don’t mind playing second fiddle to The King.” He added, just in case Sam somehow had gotten the wrong idea.

Without much warning, Sam broke into a grin. “I always kind of wished my dad could have been Henry Jones.”

“Who the fuck is Henry Jones?”

Sam snorted softly. “Indiana Jones’ dad.” Like it was just common knowledge and the idea that Nick might have somehow missed it was almost beyond him.

“ _ Sean Connery _ ?”

Which turned Sam’s incredulous laugh into something free and all together open. “No. Sean Connery is a drunken Welshman. I wanted the squirly archaeologist.” 

Was it any wonder that Nick loved this man? “Of course you did.”

Sam just shrugged, utterly shameless. “He was smart. Funny. And never around.”

“I can see the appeal.”

“How about you?” Sam leaned into him, bumping their shoulders together- which was a lot more than Nick had been expecting. “If you could pick a family member to replace, who would you, and with who?”

Nick’s skin was still prickling from the warm spot that Sam had left on his skin.”Michael. I’d trade him for… for a roast beef sandwich with swiss.”

And that got Sam laughing, startled and happy. “A sandwich?”

“It would be an upgrade. Trust me.”  

“How’s… things with Anna?”

A question that hit him like a brick to his chest. “We’re good actually. I think she was more mad at the fact that I’d lied to her than anything else.”

“But… you didn’t lie to her.”

It was complicated. “But she  _ thought  _ that I did, and then she found out that I wasn’t and it sort of threw her off for a bit.” It had only lasted a few hours. “But she’s about ready to pop out a baby and has more important things to worry about than who I’ve been, or haven’t been, having sex with. So we had lunch and she hugged me and told me that I could have made worse choices recently, and now we’re ok.” 

Sam nodded along, kind of settling down into this information with a pleased expression. “You ready to be an uncle again?”

“I think so.” Though to be honest, he hoped that Mike and Anna were about done. Four kids seemed like… well, a lot. It was a lot of kids. Especially because this newest one had been predicted to be yet another girl. That was a lot of females under one roof. Nick almost felt bad for his brother and his only nephew.  “It’s a very low commitment kind of job considering they live about two hundred miles away.”

Sam’s shoulder crashed into his again, brief and just as startling as the first time. “Hey, are you going to freak out if June and those boys start wrestling?”

“What-” and then Nick made the mistake of glancing over to where he’d last seen his daughter, who had somehow managed to lock her arms with the older of the two brother’s that had been hanging around and the kids were laughing and trying to shove each other into the surf. There were no thoughts that really passed through Nick’s mind. He was just rolling Meatball off his lap and getting uneasily to his feet.

“Whoa there.” Sam grabbed at his pant leg, anchoring him in place rather effectively. “A simple ‘yes’ is enough.”

“They aren’t allowed to touch her.”

“What exactly is going to happen to you when she’s old enough to start dating?”

“I will be doing consecutive life sentences for manslaughter.” He said without feeling, but Sam was tugging at his leg, throwing him off balance. 

“Sit back down. I’ll go break it up before you have a coronary.” Sam always seemed to know what to say, and Nick found himself sinking back into the sand and trying to comfort the dog who didn’t understand what was going on. Nick didn’t get it either.

It was inexplicable how anyone could get so attached to another human so quickly, so irrevocably. So impossibly and helpless. But Nick sat there in the sand, watching Sam swoop in and scoop up June whos peals of laughter could be heard over the crashing waves- and he wondered how he’d ever lived without either of them. 

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said no plot would be here. Just kissing.   
> I lied. You should be used to that by now. I have intentions towards my own content before I start a chapter, but I also get side tracked so very easily. 
> 
> So, little love. Fair amount of kissing, and not too much of Nick sinking his own ship.  
> All the best things.

Looking down at the worn scrap of paper in his hands, half hard, and still shaking so badly from a sickening mix of emotions that were frankly choking him, Nick had no idea what he was doing to himself. Sam had left- not like he’d asked the guy to the first time around. But he’d gone to go get cleaned up. Apparently determined to stay and drag them both through some kind of emotional hell that frankly, the older man was not up to. 

It would all be so much easier if they didn’t like eachother so much. If they didn’t love-  _ eck _ . It wasn’t a train of thought that he was prepared to follow. Not now. Not later. Telling Sam off the first time around had been hard enough. When the guy had just shown up in his studio to watch him paint. Months later, Nick had thought that maybe, just maybe he could come back to this a bit more emotionally prepared, guarded, stronger. And then they’d ended up yelling at eachother and making out on one of the chairs. 

So no. No he wasn’t ready.

But now Sam wasn’t leaving. 

Sam was naked… in the shower just down the hall. With apparently no intention of leaving Nick alone tonight to try and recover from all the things that he hadn’t meant to say or share or do. 

It would be ok though. 

They would be ok. 

They were just going to watch a movie, like they used to. Simple. Detached. Easy like everything between them used to be. Like Nick hadn’t basically just told the other man that there had been a rocky time a few months back when he’d wanted to marry Sam’s big dumb face and live happily every after. 

They could get past it. 

Movie tonight, just being close and pretending that there wasn’t anything else going on between them- and then Nick could take a few more months to try and build up a more unbreachable wall around himself where he could be safe from this man and his kind eyes and gentle hands. His rough mouth.  

Nick touched his own lips, wondering if they would be bruised tomorrow. They sure as hell felt like they would be. And that’s just what he needed. A nice little reminder for the next few days as to the real damage that this man could do to him so very easily. 

Which was by no ways a complaint, or a criticism. Nick only wished that he was corrupt enough to have let Sam keep going. For his own sake he’d had to tell him to stop. He pressed a hand to his mouth, remembering the exact way that Sam fit against him. Too fresh in his mind to even try to forget.

God, but he wished that he could just forget. Willful amnesia is what he needed right now. 

Sadly though, it was not an option. 

So instead he dragged himself up and tucked the little bit of paper, along with the ring, into the lining of his violin case before settling the delicate instrument back where it belonged. 

He cleaned up. Not that he’d ever been all that big on house work, but it gave his hands something to do. Faintly, he could still hear the water running down the hall, and so in an effort to continue stalling for time, he ate a bit. After all, it would be a shame to just waste two perfectly good pizza- and having a small meal kept him from going and joining joining Sam in the shower. Which would have been a giant leap backwards at this point, and currently Nick needed very much to keep both feet firmly planted in the here and now. 

But there was only so much stalling that he was going to be able to do, and eventually he ended up in his room, dressed in clean, comfortingly soft sleeping clothes, half curled up at the head of the bed with Netflix open on his tablet. Not that he was looking at the screen. Really more  _ through _ it,  just vaguely in the correct direction- because the water had turned off and there was only so long before he was going to have to face the deal that he’d agreed to. 

It was just Sam. Unassuming, not in the least bit intimidating, Sam- and they’d done this many times before. Just sharing a bed. No expectations beyond having a communal space to sleep.

He heard a soft noise and looked up to see the other man filling the doorway, too big for his own skin sometimes. Awkward and uncertain. And shirtless. Very shirtless. 

“You do know that lawyers aren’t supposed to be build like you are… right?” His mouth felt dry, and Nick wasn’t wholly aware of what he was even saying, just letting thoughts roll out as a way to distract himself. “They’ll take one look at you and flunk you on the BAR exams on principle.”

Sam smiled in a ghostly way, going through the motions because it’s what they both expected. “You know, you’ve told me that before, but I think it’ll work as a good intimidation tactic in the courtroom.”

Nick tried to smile back, to meet the other man’s eye and not just follow the smooth lines of those muscles of his, and the way that the dips below his hips had never seemed quite as inviting now that Nick had firmly decided that he was not allowed to touch them despite the obvious invitation to do just that.

“Is it really ethical for a lawyer to take his shirt off during his closing statements?” Or in another man’s house for that matter? It certainly didn’t feel fair.

“I don’t think there are any rules against it.” 

There should be.

There should be a whole book of rules against this right here and a hundred other things that Sam was doing to him.

But Nick wouldn’t want it any other way. 

He enjoyed the misery of it. The futility of one last night together. And he found himself smiling.

“So, uh- what are we watching?”

Right now? “We’re watching you and me make complete asses out of ourselves.” Mostly Nick- but hey, he couldn’t take all the credit for this.

Sam cracked a rather genuine smile that he quickly swallowed down to feign some kind of mock disappointment. “But I’ve already seen that one. Recently in fact.”

An easy chuckle crept through Nick. Warming him from the inside out. It felt good to laugh, and he couldn’t help it anyways, so he may as well enjoy it. 

“You make me a complete mess.” An uneasy finger turned off his tablet and he set it aside, making up his mind. “You know that?”

Edging into the room, Sam looked slightly more at ease.  “I have it under some authority that you were this way long before I got to you.” 

The joking helped. Bleeding the tension out of them so cleanly.

This would be their last night together after all- at least for some time. And this realisation and this decision should have started dragging at him, weighing him down- but it didn’t. 

He felt oddly light. 

Easy. 

Why fight the inevitable anyways?

“Come here.” He said in a way that felt more like a demand than a request, even if it were meant to be the latter.

A shadow of apprehension, a second guess, passed over Sam’s face.

And Nick wanted none of it. If Sam was so determined to stay then he was going TO STAY. He didn’t get to suddenly change his mind. They’d played that game for too long already to not just be honest and painfully straightforward with each other now. It was a right that they’d earned. 

“If you’re going to stay, then turn out the light.” No more dragging his feet. “Close the door and get the fuck over here, Sam Winchester.”

The room was plunged into almost a near perfect blackness with one flick of the light switch. Nick was a man who liked to sleep late, so he kept some heavy curtains on his windows and any light that the stars or street lights might have offered was snuffed out too easily. Somehow Sam found him, warm hand sliding against his own, their fingers locking together for just a heartbeat. Little pocket of heat between their palms. 

It was such a simple gesture, but oddly intimate in an unexpected way, because Nick honestly couldn’t say if they’d ever held hands before. He felt his resolve weakening. It hadn’t been all that strong to begin with.

Before he could really bring his own actions into question, Nick found himself pulling Sam down onto the bed, half into his own lap- but then changing his mind and turning as he pushed the man down onto the bed. Feeling more than hearing the startled breath pushed out of him as Nick crawled over him. Pushing Sam’s legs apart enough to press between them, hand sliding up the other man’s shoulder, his neck neck, finding his mouth in the dark.  

Sam tasted different than he had back in the kitchen. Cleaner, sharper. Hesitant. Like he was waiting for the spring in the trap to be triggered. Almost fearful. Which was wrong. This was the one place between them that Sam had never seemed all that shy or reluctant. There certainly hadn’t been any indecision in him earlier in the kitchen.  

Why now?

It didn’t mean he wasn’t kissing back like a promise. It just meant that as Nick broke the kiss to find a better angle, Sam breathed out his name in an uncertain way. 

“Nick? Are we going to-”

He thumbed the younger man’s mouth open wider, tracing the familiar line of his lower lip before bowing his head and following the path with his teeth. Slow, careful not to hurt, just enough pressure to silence the question. 

They’d spent too much time yelling questions at each other already tonight. The answers hadn’t been good ones. Nothing that either of them had wanted to hear. 

This was better than talking. 

This said a lot more than words anyways. 

Sam’s hands caught at him, shoulders, hips, finding a good hold as he tried to roll them. And that was more familiar. Aggressive and looking for the higher ground where he could have more control over the situation. Not tonight though. Nick was too afraid that whatever resolve he had would just melt away entirely if he lost his leverage. He had this terrible history of being weak where Sam was concerned. 

He fought it back, fought down the desire to just let the man take every thing he wanted from him. They’d agreed back in the kitchen.

Sam was just staying the night because anything more was going to break the older man.

But here they were and Nick had to remind himself of the choices that he’d made. For better or worse.

And he’d only wanted a goodnight kiss.

He pushed Sam back down into the mattress and pressed their mouths together, a growl disguised as a kiss. Mostly teeth and a hint of threat that Sam did not seem interested in backing down from. Arching up into each touch, his body bowing from lips to his toes as he pushed up into Nick, like he couldn’t get enough touch.

Wams hands pressed into Nick’s back, fingers digging into the line of his spine, pulling him close, even as Sam’s knees hooked up, notching over Nick’s hips in an openly shameless kind of way that was fairly unraveling. 

Closer than they’d been in months and Nick broke the kiss with a hiss of breath, foreheads bumping as he tried to remember why they both still had clothes on. They needed to slow down, to stop before they couldn’t. Before he couldn’t. Sam was on his own. Nick couldn’t be held responsible for both of them.

With more self control than he thought he had left, Nick slid a hand into Sam’s hair, tilting his head and kissing him so restrained and careful. Gentle, glancing kisses that were almost agonizingly soft and so slow it was hard to breathe. Everything in him focused on where their lips met, on the way that he could feel Sam smiling against him, easing into the gentleness with a contented sigh. Like this is what he’d been looking for all along, he’d just never even considered it an option.

Sam’s hands slid beneath his shirt, drawing goosebumps along his skin despite the warmth of the summer nigh and their close confines. “I need you.” He whispered into him like a prayer. “Please. Nick-”

“Don’t.” He pleaded with a surprising amount of emotion, startling himself then trying to hid behind another one of those slow, searching kisses that made him light headed. 

And at least for a few minutes, Sam didn’t. He didn’t try to say anything else. He just kissed. Just touched Nick with those very apt hands of his. Digging into the tight muscles of his back and keeping him so very close.

They kissed until Nick’s mouth hurt- which he hadn’t even known was a possibility. He had to pull back, to hide his face in Sam’s throat and just  _ be _ . In the kitchen he’d had tasted like sea. Now he was all freshly scrubbed, hair still wet from the shower, the salt on his skin much cleaner and less intense than before. 

Nick found himself licking the hollow of Sam’s collarbone, the man’s pulse hammering under his touch. And he worked a string of bruises into Sam’s skin from the muscle of his shoulder to the soft spot behind his ear. Marking him one last time in a way that he knew he shouldn’t. 

But again-

Nick was rather weak where this man was concerned, and self control could only keep him on track for so long. It was the same as all those awful cravings for things that he knew were bad for him. And Sam was an addiction. Always had been. Practically from the moment that they’d met, and Nick had felt something inside of him resonate, saying ‘This one. This one right here.’ Singing through Nick’s blood like a curse. He’d just never anticipated how dire it was going to get.

He pulled back, sitting up with his elbows on either side of Sam’s head, wishing he could see the other man in the darkness, but still knowing that he was right there beneath him.

Would it be weird to say ‘I love you’ after the argument they’d had earlier? Nick was almost positive that he’d yelled it at Sam in anger at some point tonight, so saying it again now might just be considered overkill. 

Blind, and clumsy, he bowed his head, gently brushing their noses together, enjoying the feeling of Sam’s hands coming up to card through his hair. 

“Nick-”

“You still aren’t getting this whole  _ shut up and kiss me _ thing that I’m going for, are you?”

Sam laughed, rich and warm as he slid an arm around the back of Nick’s neck as fit their mouths back together. It was good to know that they could both still laugh about this even though Nick couldn’t seem to find the humor.

Even that gave way after not too long though. Slow, satiated kisses between just lying there and sharing oxygen. Close enough to crawl into each other if they wished.

The wearying day they’d had finally catching up with them both.

Nick’s head fit nicely against the indent between Sam’s shoulder and pec. He could hear the man’s heartbeat rather clearly from there. Could feel it actually, just as plainly as his own. He dragged his fingers through all that stupid hair of Sam’s. Almost too long, but so very soft, and Nick couldn’t imagine him any other way.

With a maddeningly relentless caress, lips were running over the wreck of scars down his wrist and forearm, Sam kissing at any skin he could still reach. Bless his heart.

And in a rather sleepy kind of way, Nick decided that he could just die here and it would be ok. This would be a perfect way to leave, with memories of being warm and wanted. 

“I love you.” Sam whispered in a horse kind of tone. “You know that. Right?”

If one of them was going to say it, it was probably best that it wasn’t Nick- but even still.  “Sam, don’t.” 

Defiant as ever came the answer of “No. You have to say it.”

But fuck that, because Nick didn’t have to do anything. He was master of his own miserable destiny at this point. A destiny that didn’t need to be anything more complicated or grand, or awe inspiring than curling more against Sam’s side. Wrapping around the younger man like he wanted to pull him in under his skin. 

“But you told me you wouldn’t ever lie to me.” His breaths came warm and forced against the too sensitive skin of Nick’s wrist. “So… I love you.” So brave. “And you know that.  _ Right _ ?”

Nick mumbled something that was less than a proper answer and was rewarded with a sharp bite- which hurt more than expected considering that he was still rather sunburned. 

“I know you do.” He heard a voice whisper, and it might have been his own. It undermined everything he’d been trying to get across to Sam tonight… but it was honest, and that’s more than he’d thought he was capable of at this point.

Damned by his own declaration, Nick lay there as long as he could, clinging to the last threads of wakefulness, listening to Sam’s heart beating. Already missing him so much it hurt.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been debating updating this story, or just checking it off as done. I've got a couple finished chapters more just sitting in my computer (as well as a little side story from June's POV) and I figured that if I was actually going to waste the time to write them- then you might enjoy wasting your time in reading them?
> 
> Right?
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you are all doing well. I miss you guys

Ten days wasn’t really all that long.

Not in the grand scheme of things. 

But when everything was going exactly how it shouldn’t be- time seemed to find a way of stretching out until it felt like forever.  Every awkward comment cringingly out of place. Every little missed chance all that more obvious.

That’s just how things were going though. 

Rather unintentionally wrong, each and every step of the way.

Nick waved goodbye to Steve, one of the guys who worked with him, who was nice enough to give him a ride home so that Nick wouldn’t have to wait on the less than reliable public transit system. He was too damn old to be taking the bus anyhow. Least as far as he was concerned. The ride all the way to his front door was a decent favor that he’d been taking advantage of almost every night this week, and Nick shoved some gas money into the cup holder before hobbling out the door and up the driveway, suspiciously eyeing the big black impala parked at a rather interesting angle.

Sam had returned the car to his brother before ever coming back home with Nick, rather stubbornly still wearing that stupid ring- almost two weeks ago. The thing had no right to be here, and honestly it made the man fairly nervous. 

It was nearly two in the morning, so he tried to be quiet when he came in. Not shaking his keys too much, stepping lightly. It was a futile effort though. He could have come in singing at the top of his lungs, it wouldn’t have woken his daughter. Or Sam for that matter. 

He found them where he usually did. Same place that they’d fallen asleep for the past few nights. Sam sprawled out on the couch, June tucked against him like she’d settled into the arms of the world’s largest teddy bear, and then Meatball nesting on top of them like the queen of the mountain. The TV was still running, the volume on low, some infomercial singing the praises of some new type of blender that looked exactly like every other blender in the world- but this one promised to be special, as well as a steal at only $24.99. 

It took just about everything Nick had in him not to just kick off his shoes and drape himself over the lot of them.    

There was no sign of that aggressively protective brother Sam’s, so Nick started to relax. Maybe the other man had just borrowed the car again. Perhaps there were exciting plans for tomorrow that required a vehicle. One could always hope.

Shoes were left beside the door and Nick padded as quietly as he could into the kitchen, not bothering with the light, and just going straight for the fridge. When he’d left that afternoon there had been a two liter of soda that he’d told June to save him some of.

The soda was gone- but there were now a handful of brown beer bottles with shiny blue labels and Nick’s breath caught sharply in his throat. He hadn’t had a drink in months, and not because of any stellar self control, only out of stubbornness and the fact that he’d been avoiding being anywhere near it as if his life depended on it. 

“Sam said you gave ‘em up.” Dean said just loud enough to give Nick a minor coronary. “So I figure I could leave them all for him and they’d be safe.”

He turned around to find the man sitting in the near dark, at his dining room table, shadows on his face sharp in the bright light of the fridge. 

“The fuck are you doing in my house?” Nick demanded almost casually, heart still racing because no one ever really gets used to someone sneaking up on them in the dark. 

“Came over to see my brother. We had dinner. And we talked.”

“It’s the middle of the night… and Sam’s sleeping.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s still my brother.”

“Are you drunk?” Which would be just Nick’s luck. 

Dean’s face turned sour, and he looked sideways at the mostly empty looking bottle on the table beside his cell phone. “I’m not drunk. Just fucking tired. You always come home this late?”

“When Cassy was watching June, no. He’s got a nine to five job and needed to get home and sleep.” Nick had no idea why he was explaining himself. “But your brother volunteered, and he doesn’t care how late I work.”

“Oh, he cares.” Dean frowned in the direction of the soft television noises from the other room. “Come sit down, you son of a bitch.”

How could this man be related to Sam? 

Sure he had all those lovely genes and bone structure- but none of the sweetness or sympathy. Just a salty bastard who didn’t know when to shut up.

Dean was a lot more like Nick. 

Problem was, Nick never really like himself all that much. 

He ignored the order and pushed the beers aside so he could pull out a carton of milk. Not that he was all that fond of milk exactly, but it’s precisely what a nonalcoholic would dink in this situation, so he buried himself in the ritual. Pouring a tall glass. Going so far as to get out the Hershey's syrup and making his milk all chocolatey, before turning on the light over the oven and pulling out one of the chairs at the far end of the table. 

“Can we make this quick? I just spent five hours on a single tattoo and I’m tired as hell. I’d like to get a shower and go to bed.”

“I don’t like you.” Dean finally said after what looked like some deliberation.

Nick rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Is that all? You know you could have saved yourself the midnight dramatics and gone home hours ago- I’ve known for months now that you hate me.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“Which is one of the main reasons that I’m dating your brother and not you.”

Teeth were shown, angry flash of white. “You’re not good for him.”

“Agreed. But I’ve had one hell of a time trying to convince him of that.” Nick drank some of his milk and decided that he’d put  _ way too much _ chocolate in it. “I sort of just gave up fighting him. He’s going to do whatever he wants no matter what I say anyways.”

“He’s making a bad choice.”

“Still not disagreeing over here.”

“This isn’t a fucking joke.”

“I  _ know _ .”

Dean looked like he wanted to take a swing, or yell at him or something- but he managed to keep his voice at a dull whisper so as not to disturb the slumber party in the other room.  “Look, whenever you two get done playing house, then I’m the one who has to hold his hand while he cries- and tell him what an asshole you are.”

“... did he cry last time?” The suggestion struck him like a physical blow.

The hollows of his cheeks darkened as Dean ground his teeth. “ _ No _ , he did not. But I’m trying to make a point here, you fuck.”

“Look, I know, and you know, that he’s too good for me and our little second attempt at a relationship is going to come off the rails at some point- but he basically proposed and I’m a selfish bastard who's tired of fighting with someone who doesn’t have the good sense of when to call it quits.”

Dean ran a hand down over his face and sighed. “He’s really stubborn. Isn’t he?”

“I kind of got the impression that it’s a family trait.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means my baby brother comes to me for advice on his love life- same as yours does with you.” Nick enjoyed watching that sink in. “And if you like I can come to your place and hide in your kitchen next week, and have this same talk again- only I can be the one saying ‘if you break his heart I’ll fucking kill you’.”

Dean didn’t look horribly amused by that one.

Which was fair. 

The fact that they were both in similar situations was more sad than funny.

They drank in silence, with only the weak light from over the oven. It was a grumpy kind of silence, if that was the best word to describe it. 

“Sam told me you got a new car.” Dean offered up the proverbial olive branch in a strange way.

It was a rather welcome change of topic. “Yeah- the guy who bought my Shelby from me sent me something new to fix up.”

And the older Winchester waited expectantly.

“Sixty-three Thunderbird… you wanna see her?”

Dean’s laugh was quiet and only a little strained. “Well, I’d rather look at her than you.”

So they went to the garage, and Nick pulled back the tarp from his new project. The candy yellow paint was oxidized and faded. Dents in her fenders, tail lights broken. And then there was all the issues beneath the hood that were nicely hidden away. It was still a beautiful car.

Walking slowly around the beautiful old girl, Dean let out an appreciative whistle. “You’ve got yourself one hell of a mess to sort out, but she’s gorgeous.”

“Right?” Nick leaned up against the wall, taking as much weight as he could off his bad leg. He was exhausted. Physically and mentally. But those took a backseat to the fact he could imagine how happy Sam would be if some kind of peace could be reached tonight. “I can handle the body work… but I could use some help replacing the engine and cooling system.”

“Replacing, or rebuilding? Because it would be a shame to lose any of the guts if they’s still salvageable.”

“I don’t know engines well enough to rebuild one.”

Dean got a small smile, little hook to the corner of his mouth, and it was remarkable how much he could look like Sam in such a singular, self conscious expression. “That’s why you’ve got your amazing brother-in-law to help your sorry ass out.”

Those words made Nick feel oddly warm and comforted- like he’d made the right choice for once. “Ah, so  _ that’s  _ why I kept you around.”

“But if I’m helping then I get to be the first one to drive her.”

“No fucking way.” Nick laughed openly. Safely away in the garage where he didn’t have to worry about waking anyone.

Dean slid a hand slowly over the low slope of the back window. “We will say it’s on the table for negotiations.”

“No.”

“You ride my brother, I get to ride your car. This is a fair trade, dude.”

“For the record, I’ve never had the privilege of tapping that fine ass. Also, we haven’t had sex in months.” Hadn’t even kissed since the night they’d come back from the beach- if anyone at home wanted to keep score.

“Hey there.” Dean held his hands up to ward off anything else Nick might say. “None of my damn business who’s putting what where... or not putting.” He got a little frown. “Wait… really though?”

Nick shrugged.

“He’s been living with you for weeks. What the hell have you two been doing if not screwing like jackrabbits?”

“Talking.”

“ _ Talking _ ?” Dean managed to sound like it was a personal insult.

“We’re friends before anything else.” He shrugged again. “We’re ...catching up.”

With a groan, Dean rolled his eyes. “You two are so disgustingly gay for eachother.”

Nick felt himself smiling. “We really are.”

“Just as long as we’re clear- I will hurt you if you hurt him. Like, a lot. We’re talking hospital levels of hurting.”

“I know.” The smile grew until he felt the corners of his eyes crinkle. “And the same goes for you and my Cassy.”

“We’re just friends.” Dean tried the smallest little bit of denial, but he was smiling as well. Little bit of color in his cheeks.

Dean still wasn’t one of Nick’s favorite people. Far from it. And he was rather certain that the feeling was mutual. No real love lost between them. But they could get along… kind of. Because with any luck, they were going to be stuck together for many years to come.

For the sake of their brothers if nothing else.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't understand. I finally know how it ends.   
> This chapter was written at the same time as the last one posted... so maybe May of last year?  
> Yes I am a monster, but I didn't know how to end this story, and I didn't know if this chapter here was going in the right direction, or actually going to add anything of benifit to the story. 
> 
> But I know how it ends.   
> Tears.   
> Literal tears at this point   
> because this stupid story has been hanging over me like an albatross for over half a year and the guilt and inadequate writer feelings are lifting.   
> Thumbs up all the way around.   
> I hope to have the next chapter up by Monday (it's already almost done) and because I'm just radiating with excitement over here, have a chapter that literally adds nothing at all to the plot. but picks up right after the last chapter and has some sleepy men being useless and awkwardly emoting at one another.   
> Only the best for you guys.   
> Only the best.

 

The soft red light from the back of the Impala finally disappeared around the bend in the road, and Nick let the curtain drop. Satisfied that the unexpected, and frankly unwanted, company was truly gone. Then he hauled his sorry self to the bathroom- wanting a shower before bed. And he would be lying to himself if he said that he’d only left the bathroom door partially open because the fan in there didn’t work well and he didn’t like all the trapped steam. There were other reasons. Ones that mostly felt a little too needy and hopeful, that he hated to acknowledge.

A whole day’s worth of work got scrubbed off, and the doctor had told him that there would be days when his leg ached as badly as it did now, and that he should soak it in a bath- but who takes baths after the age of four? Little kids, and lovely ladies in movies. Not Nick. He simply wasn’t the type who went for the sultry, candle lit, bubble bath scene. 

So he turned the shower on as hot as it could go, and sank to the bottom of the tub, letting the water hit his leg, the muscles relaxing as his skin turned nicely pink. And the fact that he hardly fit in the tub probably had something to do with the fact that they just don’t make the things with adults in mind. His knees were bent half to his chest, and his elbows rested comfortable along the tub’s rim. It was like sitting in a puddle while it rained. But it was nice. And it was warm. 

He probably would have fallen asleep down there. He’d certainly done it many times before. Except, for the first time in those ten days since Sam had come to stay with him, that offer implied by the open door was taken.

Not that Sam made any noise all all when he came in the room, but it became rather obvious because it wasn’t really possible to roll a shower door open silently. All kinds of soft rattling sounds as the little wheels rolled to the side.

Nick opened his eyes and look up, marveling slightly at just how tall Sam could really look from the angle. “June in bed?”

“Yeah, I just tucked her in.” He smiled sleepily. Bleary eyed and gorgeous. “Was Dean still here when you came back?”

Nick closed his eyes and just sighed softly. It was enough of an answer.

“Sorry.” Which sounded one hundred percent honest. “He stayed after dinner, told me he’d hang around ‘til you came home.”

Nick felt the edge of his mouth curl upward. “We had a nice talk.”

“...nice?”

“Nice.” He wiped some water from his face and looked back up to his towering friend.  “Did you guys have some quality TV watching tonight?”

That smile went a little crooked. “Wrestling.”

“How’d June talk you into that one?”

“It was my turn to pick actually… do you mind if I...?” Sam kind of ducked down, making to sit beside the tub.

Nick pulled his arms in, crossing them loosely over his chest, drawing his knees closer, because sure, the two of them had spent some nice mornings and afternoons together this past week. Lots of talking, kind of catching up and just being near to each other in general. But this was the first time one of them had been naked. 

It made Nick feel oddly vulnerable. 

Which was stupid, because this man had seen him in many more compromising positions, and from many more incriminating angles.

“Thanks for staying with her.” He chose to just ignore the weird feeling that he had as Sam settled on the tile floor beside the tub. 

“You say that every night.” The kid’s smile was easy.

It would have been impossible to resist returning it, and Nick found himself grinning weakly. “I still mean it.” 

“Because now you can work yourself late into the night like you used to?”

“It’s good for me.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Sam’s eyes followed the lines of his body, lingering on the still pink scars around his ankle and shin. “You know, It doesn’t look at bad as I thought it would.”

Without being asked Nick raised his leg up, rather awkwardly, showing off all the damage that he’d done to himself so many months ago. “It’s worse than it looks.” He half joked, but Sam frowned that sympathetic puppy kind of look that he did so well. “I’m fine.”

“So fine that you’re boiling yourself?”

“It feels nice.”

Sam pulled his gaze away from all those lovely surgical scars, and smiled at Nick. “You’re like some kind of cold blooded reptile. You do know that, right?”

“But I don’t do that- that tongue thing.” He demonstrated to prove his point, flicking his tongue in Sam’s direction, and they were sitting a little too close for it not to be weird. But off the top of his head, Nick couldn’t think of a single moment that they’d been together when things weren’t at least remotely weird. 

It might just have been all the steam, but there seemed to be a bit of color creeping into Sam’s cheeks. “It’s pretty late…”

Which was a really unnecessary kind of thing to say.

There weren’t many reasons that Nick could come up with for such a statement. “...were you headed home?”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Considering that I don’t have a car- and I’ve been here for almost two weeks- no. I think I’ll stay for at least another night.”

“Then the fact that it’s late is just… you instigating the ‘let's state the obvious’ game?”

“I was wondering how much longer you were planning to soak yourself.”

“For as long as there’s hot water.” Nick was a simple man.

Some of Sam’s long fingers hooked over the edge of the shower door, and he pushed it just a little further open. “I don’t suppose that… there’s enough room in there for one more?”

Nick put his hand on the door and pushed it until there was only the smallest gap to see through. “There’s not even enough room in here for me.”

With a small, frustrated sigh, Sam glanced back over his shoulder towards the sink and the still slightly open door that lead out into the hall. “Look... I don’t want to push you or anything… but I  _ have _ sort of really been noticing that you won't touch me.”

There was no answer that Nick could think to give that wouldn’t just sound really, really strange. 

“And I’m happy to be here,” Sam made quick amends, “and talking again, and it’s good… but I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” Nick wasn’t sure exactly where this was going.

“And I still miss you.”

It was kind of nice having all the time in the world to admire those broad muscles of the kid’s shoulders, the clean line of his neck. “What do you want from me, Sam?”

“I just kind of assumed that when we started dating again that we would… you know… be dating… like we used to be.”

“I thought you wanted to start over again from the beginning.”

“Nick, the first day we met you had your arms around me- and you were grabbing my ass by week two.”

“That first night we were on my bike,” he managed to feel a little defensive. “I had to hold onto you.”

“Not  _ that  _ tightly.”

Fair enough. “So I was craving some human contact. So sue me.”

Sam’s arms folded together on the edge of the tub, little stray specks of water making dark spots on his shirt sleeves and he leaned in, closed to Nick’s level, maybe a little lower. It was an incredibly simple, yet effective show of nonaggression. “And… for right now you aren’t having any of those ...cravings?”

Nick let his head fall back, eyes closed, exasperated. “Sam, I will have you know that if the offer was on the table, I would be going down on you right now instead of suffering through this really awkward conversation.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you at this point in our relationship- but sex is always on the table, Nick. Always.”

He laughed, and opened his eyes to see Sam still sitting there with his big dumb arms crossed and that oh so earnest look on his face. 

The laughter kind of died. “I… I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

“ _ Oh my god _ .” The younger man hissed the curse between his teeth as he rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. 

“Well what am I supposed to think?”

“That maybe I’m worried about you getting the wrong idea.” All those defensive feelings curling up in him.

And all Sam did was laugh. 

He actually laughed. Such a bright, startled sound.

He’d been doing that an awful lot since he’d come to stay. 

Nick would stumble over some new, painful kind of revelation, or apology, or confession, and Sam would just go wide eyes and laugh like every word of it was magic. 

And it wasn’t magic. Nick was a complete mess now that he had Sam back beside him. Hell, he’d actually been a mess from the first day that they’d met, if not even before that point. But he’d reached a strange place in his life where he could really appreciate just how little control he had over every stupid thing that he found himself doing. No. Not magic. But kind of amazing all the same.

He let his head come to rest on the curve of Sam’s arm, the muscle and bone comfortable as anything, and Nick took a slow breath before looking up, sideways at the man who was now his pillow. 

“The  _ wrong  _ idea?” Sam was grinning.

“Does it help you if you repeat it?” Whereas it was sometimes kind of amusing and Nick could laugh along with him, this was not one of those moments. Those kind of moments didn’t get to happen after two in the morning. 

“You’re worried I might… I might what? Think that you’re only in this for the sex?”

Nick was in no way smelling the other man. Not intentionally anyways. Not that he’d admit to. “How do you know me this well?”

Sam leaned down and their foreheads crashed with a dull kind of thunk. “That’s a stupid thing to worry about at this point.”

“Thanks for that assessment, mister College.”

“Well, why aren’t you worried that if all we do is talk, that I won’t just assume that that’s all you want me for?”

“Why do I have to want you for anything specific?” They were too close to see each other properly, and all Nick could glimpse were summer tanned cheeks and an occasional flash of dark eyes. “Why do you have to have words for everything? You overanalyze- ”

Sam reared up, leaving a cold spot where they were no longer touching. “ _ I _ overanalyze?”

“You do. You’ve got to come up with reasons and explanations, and have these long, drawn out conversations- when there is no need at all, because it’s a non subject.”

“A non subject?”

“Exactly. It’s a physical situation that will sort itself out once the general anxiety over it fades.”

“It took three months for it to ‘sort itself out’ last time we did this.”

Nick shrugged.

Sam sighed.

Then Sam took his arm back, successfully removing Nick’s pillow. “Finish your shower, old man. Then go to bed. You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“I know.”

Sam got up, and managed to look remarkably tall once more. And he wasn’t mad. There was just an air of tired to him as well. Frustration, but not anger, and under it a great need for sleep.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short ending to a long story. 
> 
> (or alternately surmised as: closure is good for the soul)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a day later than I anticipated, but my computer monitor has departed from this life and I ended up having to borrow my roommates laptop to get this all done. Yay for friends willing to sully their hardrives with fics about man feelings. 
> 
> Proud to say, here you go.   
> Such a long wait for a final chapter.  
> I don't mean the time between yesterday and today. I mean the fact that some of you have been with me through this roller coaster of a 2 story set for probably 2 or three years now. Even when I went from updating a couple times a month, to when I fell of the Earth for almost a year instead of writing the end to this story T^T You guys waited for it, and I don't have words to tell you how grateful I am for that.
> 
> The love and support that you guys have for this ship is what makes it a pleasure to be part of the fandom.  
> Thank you guys for all you do. All the comments, and love, and the support. Thank you people who quietly stalk my hibernating account on tumblr. Thank you to people who have sent me songs, or little fic ideas. Or just those random letters of encouragement, because this last year has been hell and those notes helped more than you will ever know.   
> Thank you for the months of texting during two summers ago when I felt like I had no story at all in me and you brainstormed with me and kept me laughing (you know who you are).   
> And thank you to a lovely girl out in the cold and snowy part of the world who drew me a hedgehog for my birthday and really made me question in life how many socks are too many socks to bring on a vacation. 
> 
> Thank all of you. I've met so many lovelies out here in the internet, just because I took a chance and decided to write a few stories about a couple of dumb boys who want to touch each other's butts.
> 
> I don't know when I will have a next something up. Things are still kind of rocky out here.   
> But as long as you are all still out there, I'll keep sending stories into the ether for you <3

The music was starting and Nick felt incredibly stupid up here in the front all alone. He found himself glancing back down the aisle, past all those faces, looking for Sam. 

How could be he late?

Sam was one of the most frustratingly punctual people that he’d ever met. 

And just the same, here was Nick, Sam-less and anxious in a room of strangers.

But then the doors cracked open, wan light outlining the unmistakable shape of broad shoulders pushing their way in, and almost sheepishly Sam made his way up to where Nick waited, casting small, awkward smiles as the people sitting glanced his way.

“You’re late.” Nick whispered perhaps a little too loud when Sam’s arm brushed his.

“There was traffic.” The younger man whispered back, settling in beside him, taking a seat and looking up at the stage as the big curtains rustled and pulled apart. 

Nick narrowed his eyes, ignoring the stage and its dressings. “Traffic? You were walking.”

“Did I miss anything?”

“No, It just started. But I’ve been-”

One of Sam’s big warm hands settled down on his knee with a comfortably familiar weight and that was the end of Nick’s protests. It usually was.

His own hand fit comfortably over Sam’s, and he allowed himself the small distraction of running his thumb over the gravestone like line of the other man’s knuckles. It helped Nick keep his mind off the fact that he was in all actuality about to sit through two hours worth of a musical- when he most assuredly had never before in his life willingly let himself be subjected to such torture.

The distraction couldn’t last though. Nick needed both of his hands free to clap loudly when the toe headed terror that was his sixteen year old daughter came on stage. Her steely eyes narrowed slightly at the singular sound as one of her dad’s clapped and whistled in the near quiet theater. But she didn’t miss her que and she said her lines just as forced and stiff as the rest of her classmates, and Nick couldn’t have been more proud. 

Sam hushed him with a smile and the two of them (along with a hundred other parents) watched with the delight that only people who have produced offspring can feel while watching a High School rendition of  _ Seven Brides for Seven Brothers _ . The sets were recycled from last year’s play. The acting was stiff, and lines were occasionally forgotten. The singing wasn’t great. But Nick loved every minute of it- right up until June, who was playing Milly kissed the boy who was playing Adam.

Aghast and horrified, he leaned into Sam’s shoulder, hardly finding his voice. “No one told me this was a kissing story.” 

“She marries the guy in the first act… you’ve seen her rehearsing for the past month. They kiss… three times if I remember right.” Sam’s eyes were bright with restrained laughter.

No one had ever told him such horrible news in his whole life. Nick was staggered that Sam, someone he loved and trusted could say such things to him. To his face. It was unthinkable. “She’s not allowed to kiss boys.”

The corners of the younger man’s mouth twisted and he struggled and failed not to smile. He did his best to hide it behind a hand, whispering, “you do know that the kid playing Adam is the same one that she went to Homecoming with, right?”

It got worse somehow. 

“She went with her friend Erin.” Nick very distinctly remembered sending his sweet baby girl, all dressed up, showing too much shoulder, with a gaggle of other teenaged girls in someone’s mom’s van. There were definitely no boys. He’d checked. 

“No, she went with her friend  _ Aaron _ .” Sam nodded to the stage where yet another musical number had broken out. “Erin is the one with glasses and the very loud laugh. Aaron is a boy. I’m surprised you can’t tell the difference.”

Nick was too stricken to form a proper rebuttal. 

And despite his willing it not to be so, he still had to sit there, front row and witness two more tiny, brief stage kisses between his daughter and  _ Aaron.  _

The involuntary cringing on his part seemed to be rather distracting to Sam. Each time that Nick had to sit idly by in witness of the dreaded young Aaron putting his dreaded young face onto June’s, Sam caught at Nick like an anchor with a hand to his knee. 

That subtle weight kept him feeling grounded.

Kept him from mentally composing a list of ways he could later dispose of the  body of a certain teenaged boy.

In a dimly light High School theater no one could see when Nick settled his left hand over the one resting on his knee. And with the students on the stage singing with astoundingly awkward fervor, what seemed to be the finale of the play, no one could hear the dull sound that the men’s matching rings made as the blonde knocked them together in time to the music.

They’d never done anything more official about those rings other than going to the county clerk’s office a few years back and signing some paperwork. 

But not everything in life needs fanfare and extra attention from family members who did so love to voice their disapproval. 

Sometimes the best things are concealed in shared smiles that could speak volumes without a single word, or signing names on to the same piece of paper, or just by holding hands in dark rooms.   

 


End file.
